Gilligan's Second Home
by MildlyInsane
Summary: Hoping to find rescue from the island, Gilligan and Skipper take a raft out onto the ocean. They happen upon what seems to be a functioning pirate ship and are forced to join the crew.
1. Chapter 1

**Gilligan's Second Home**

 _ **Summary: Hoping to find rescue from the island, Gilligan and Skipper take a raft out onto the ocean. They happen upon what seems to be a functioning pirate ship and are forced to join the crew.**_

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 **NOTE: Okay... I accidentally wrote an eight-chapter Gilligan's Island story. I honestly didn't mean to. No... I'm serious. I did not mean to. This has happened to me before. I always start stories just for myself, because I'm bored and just want to write about various characters doing whatever. Oftentimes my writings are unfinished, a chapter or two of disjointed scenes, and they never see the light of day. They are kind of just messy experiments... But this one accidentally became a full story, so I figured I'd publish it here. I know not very many people are into Gilligan's Island these days, so I don't even expect many - or possibly any - reviews... but I had fun writing it anyway. I'm mostly posing it here so I can come back and read it later in the event that my computer crashes and the story is lost. That's why I publish most of my fanfiction stories - for my own reference - to have all my stories in one place in case they get deleted off my computer.**

 **Anyway, if you want to read it, here it is. I had a lot of fun writing it. It does contain a little bit of violence, but nothing too disturbing. I don't have the heart to put any Gilligan's Island characters into any situations that are exceptionally harsh, but there are a couple moments that are a little more rough than what would happen in the show... These characters are resilient though, so don't fret.**

 **Also, if you've read my other Gilligan's Island stories, I can't promise you this, but I can claim it's my opinion that this one is a lot better than my others. My genie one was pretty good, actually, in theory... But in this one, I tried to keep the characters more true to themselves. I have a great deal more respect for Skipper now too. Hopefully someone out there will read and enjoy this.**

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 **Chapter 1**

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Gilligan sighed as he stared up at the passing clouds. He and Skipper had taken a raft out to sea two days ago, hoping to find their way back to Hawaii or happen upon a ship. So far, they'd found nothing. Gilligan had somehow lost track of their food supply sometime yesterday morning... At least, Skipper seemed to blame him for the food's disappearance. Gilligan was supposed to be keeping an eye open on the raft, watching for ships or land and keeping all their supplies secured while Skipper took a nap. Gilligan didn't really know what happened to the food, but assumed it must have drifted off somehow while he wasn't paying attention.

He wasn't paying attention now either. Skipper told him to keep watch, as they were taking turns napping or watching for anything useful to come about. Gilligan was tired of watching the same waves for hours on end, so he had decided to watch the clouds instead. At least they were different shapes now and then.

Gilligan glanced next to himself where his captain was sleeping. Skipper was snoring. Gilligan reached over and put his fingers on Skipper's cheek. Sometimes if he poked the older man, his snoring would stop.

Though still asleep, Skipper raised his hand and swatted at Gilligan's fingers. He also stopped snoring, for the moment anyway.

Gilligan turned back over onto his back and watched the sky again. The sky was, fortunately, very cloudy today. That meant he wouldn't get burned by the sun. At least there was that. He was thirsty, hungry, tired, and kind of scared, but at least his skin wouldn't get sunburnt.

He wondered if they were ever going to find a boat or another island. Taking a raft aimlessly out into the ocean hadn't been a good idea. It was too big of a risk, and the island they'd left wasn't really so bad. It had become like a second home to him. He really didn't mind living there. Each of the individual people on the island had family, friends, and homes they missed from back where they'd come from, but the group had kind of become a family rather quickly, and the island itself made a pretty comfortable home. They had huts and hammocks and fresh fruit and fish. It could have easily been a lot worse. The Minnow could have crashed on a volcanic island with no plants... But it hadn't. They'd landed in a paradise.

It didn't seem worth the risk to Gilligan to potentially starve to death or be eaten by sharks just so they might find their way home. They could have just made a new home on the island. There was food there, fresh water, shelter, and the people there were great. It seemed a shame to throw all that away just so they could end up dying at sea.

Just when Gilligan was beginning to contemplate taking a nap himself, he noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye. He shot up into a sitting position in time to see a large ship in the distance.

With a gasp, Gilligan jumped to his feet. "Skipper!" He called out, turning around and nearly tripping over himself as he went to wake his friend.

"Gilligan!" Skipper groaned. "Could you please try to stay still? I can't get even a minute of sleep with you constantly bouncing around." The captain turned over onto his side.

"No, Skipper..." Gilligan knelt down next to him and gripped his arm. "There's a boat. A ship!"

"Huh?" Skipper quickly sat up as well, climbing to his feet and looking out into the distance. "Little Buddy! We're saved!"

"Yeah!" Gilligan jumped up and down, causing the raft to rock a bit.

"Gilligan, stop that!" Skipper grabbed his arms and held him still. "You're going to tip the whole raft over!"

"Sorry, Skipper," Gilligan forced himself to calm down.

"Well, let's paddle over to it before it gets too far away," Skipper ordered.

Gilligan nodded and grabbed an oar. He paddled on one side while Skipper paddled on the other.

As they drew near the ship, Gilligan frowned. It looked kind of scary. It didn't look like a clean, friendly, modern ship. It looked like the kind of ships he'd heard about in stories about pirates. It seemed to be wooden, and even had a black flag flying on it.

"Skipper, maybe we should go back," Gilligan suggested as he stopped paddling.

"What?" Skipper scoffed. "Keep paddling, Gilligan. Why would we go back? We've been trying to get off that island for months."

"I don't feel good about that ship, Skipper," Gilligan persisted. "It looks like a pirate ship."

Skipper rolled his eyes and shook his head. "There aren't pirates anywhere near Hawaii," Skipper assured his first mate. "It's probably some kind of tourist ship."

"Oh," Gilligan looked back at the ship, which was drawing nearer and nearer. "So they're all just pretending to be pirates..."

"Could be," Skipper continued paddling.

They continued paddling closer as the ship drifted toward them. The closer the ship got, the more Gilligan could observe it, and the more nervous he felt. Printed in thick letters across the front of the ship were the words 'The Valiant Serpent.' That sounded like a pirate ship to him.

When they were near enough, one of the sailors from the ship called down to them.

"You men need help?"

Gilligan looked at Skipper. He still wasn't sure about these people. The guy even looked kinda like a pirate. He had long hair, a bandana, and his clothes looked dirty... Just like the pirates from stories.

"We were shipwrecked on a nearby island," Skipper called up to the man. "We're trying to get back to Hawaii!"

Gilligan looked from his captain to the stranger on the ship. He wished they could just go back home... to their island home. This was scary.

"Come on up," The guy called back as he tossed down a rope ladder.

"Skipper, I don't think we should-" Gilligan started in a quiet voice, gripping Skipper's arm with his hands and pulling him slightly back away from the ladder.

"Will you stop that, Gilligan?" Skipper shoved his hands away. "We were looking for help... Well, we found it. They might not be the most formal-looking folks, but I'll take what I can get. They don't all need to be dressed like the Howells."

"It's not just that," Gilligan started. "They can dress however they want... but they seem like pirates. Pirates aren't friendly, Skipper."

"They're not pirates, Gilligan," Skipper scoffed.

"But they might be," Gilligan frowned as he began to accept that he was not going to be able to talk Skipper out of this. His shoulders slumped as he looked back up at the man on the ship's deck.

"We'll play it safe, Gilligan," Skipper promised. "You're right that we shouldn't just completely trust these people. But we've got to give it a chance, or we'll end up lost at sea forever."

"Okay," Gilligan frowned.

"Let me do the talking," Skipper ordered in a low voice as he gripped the ladder. "And don't say anything about the others back on the island. Not yet. Just in case."

Gilligan frowned and grabbed the back of Skipper's shirt. "You said they weren't pirates... Even if they aren't, do you think they're dangerous?"

"I don't know, Gilligan," Skipper shrugged. "We'll find out soon."

Gilligan felt his shoulders slump again as he watched his captain make his way up the ladder. He had no choice but to follow.

When they reached the top, the man who had talked to them before was there to welcome them aboard. He took Skipper's arm and helped him climb over the side and then offered the same for Gilligan, who tripped over the railing anyway.

The sailor laughed and held onto Gilligan firmly so he didn't fall. Gilligan frowned, as he felt like he was being made fun of. "Watch your step, there, little fella."

Gilligan shrugged out of his grip and took a step back so he was close to Skipper.

"I'm Christopher Silver," The man introduced himself. He had dark skin, long dark hair under a red bandana, and tattered, dirty clothing. He even had a few gold teeth which were visible when he smiled.

"Jonas Grumby," Skipper offered his hand to the man and shook it.

Silver looked to Gilligan next. Not wanting to be rude, Gilligan reluctantly reached out and shook the man's hand. "Gilligan," He introduced himself with a small, uncertain voice.

"Pleased to meet you both," Mr. Silver grinned. "You say you were shipwrecked nearby? Can I ask what happened?"

"We got caught in a storm," Skipper explained. "Our ship was beyond repair." Gilligan was glad Skipper didn't mention that the glue the first mate created was the reason the ship was beyond repair. It had probably been salvageable before that incident.

"Let me take you to see the captain," Silver offered with a half-smile. He looked somewhat conflicted.

Gilligan looked toward Skipper, silently trying to convey to him that he didn't like this, and that he wanted to climb back down onto the raft and get out of here.

Skipper shrugged and put his hand on Gilligan's back as he dragged him along after the very pirate-looking sailor.

"Captain!" Mr. Silver called out as he walked along the deck.

"You pick up those men, Silver?" A gruff-sounding voice called out before a man stepped into Gilligan's line of view. This man looked even more like a pirate than the first guy. He wore a large hat, slightly less tattered clothing, and a long coat. Though he wasn't wearing an eye patch, he did have a large scar stretching over his right eye. He'd probably worn one once.

"Yes, Captain," Mr. Silver answered. "This is Mr. Jonas Grumby and Mr. uh-" He hesitated as he seemed to be searching his memory. He probably thought he'd forgotten Gilligan's first name... but Gilligan hadn't ever given it to him. "Mr. Gilligan... They lost their ship on an island nearby."

"I'm Captain O'Neil," The captain introduced himself.

Skipper reached out and shook the other captain's hand. "We're wondering if you're going in the direction of Hawaii. If not, that's fine. We just need to get somewhere where we can make arrangements to sail or fly back there."

"I've got to be honest with you guys," O'Neil spoke as he stared from Skipper to Gilligan. "We're not really in the business of escorting shipwrecked sailors back home."

"We can pay you," Skipper offered. "I don't have money on me at the moment, but I've got a bank account back home. I can pay you when we get back."

O'Neil laughed. "As I said... Not in the business. Though we are recruiting new members to join The Valiant Serpent's crew."

Gilligan glanced nervously in Skipper's direction. He didn't want to work on this ship, under this captain. He wanted to work on Skipper's ship... even if he didn't have one right now.

"No, thanks," Skipper declined. "We're just trying to get home."

"Well," O'Neil grinned. "I wasn't really _asking_ you... The two of you seem to be pretty much stuck here on my ship... and I don't let people get away with free passage here. If you're on my ship, you're going to work for me."

Gilligan frowned. "That's not fair!" He finally spoke up. "We'll just go back to our raft. Come on, Skipper," He grabbed Skipper's arm and turned around, but Skipper didn't budge. Gilligan pouted and turned toward his friend.

Gilligan was feeling smaller and smaller as he observed the other sailors on the ship. The longer they stood here, the more attention was drawn to the conversation. They had an audience of twelve or so pirate-looking sailors by now. He noticed some of them had swords or knives on their belts. It didn't seem like Gilligan and Skipper had much of a choice in this.

"He's kidding, Gilligan," Skipper assured him, raising an eyebrow toward the other captain. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all," O'Neil answered. "And you are most certainly not free to return to your flimsy little raft... which I'm sure my ship has decimated by now anyway. You're stuck on my ship, so you're going to work to earn your keep."

Gilligan shook his head. "For how long? Just until we make it to land?" He supposed that was fair.

The captain shrugged but didn't answer. "Thomas, find something for Mr. Grumby to work on. Make sure his abilities aren't wasted. Everyone here needs to earn their keep."

Skipper glanced toward Gilligan. He looked nervous.

"Come along," One of the sailors stepped forward and gestured for Skipper to follow him.

Skipper took a few steps forward, following the other man. Gilligan walked after him, stumbling over some ropes that were lying on the deck and tripping up, falling into Skipper's back. He caught himself, just barely, on Skipper's shirt, holding himself up long enough for Skipper to turn back and grab onto him.

"Not you," Captain O'Neil shook his head and reached toward Gilligan's arm. "Mr. Silver will show you around."

Gilligan looked from Skipper, to O'Neil, and then to Mr. Silver. He didn't want to go a separate way from his Skipper. Shaking his head, Gilligan spoke up, "Why can't I help Skipper?"

"I can't risk having the two of you plotting anything together, or sabotaging my ship. You'll see each other at the end of your work shifts. For now, you'll each do separate jobs. I doubt you and Mr. Grumby would excel in the same line of work. He's clearly capable of heavy lifting... You are not," The captain explained.

Gilligan frowned, but couldn't deny that the captain was right. He wasn't strong like Skipper.

"This way," Mr. Silver ordered, reaching his hand out toward Gilligan.

"Don't give him anything too difficult," Captain O'Neil suggested with a small smirk, before turning away.

Gilligan glanced in Skipper's direction one last time before he and the older man were led off in opposite directions. He didn't like this one bit. He didn't trust these sailors, didn't like the idea of working for them, and was honestly pretty scared of how this was going to turn out. Were these guys ever going to let them go? Or were Skipper and Gilligan meant to be the crew of this ship for the rest of their lives?

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	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey! People read my first chapter. Thanks so much for your lovely reviews. I hope you enjoy this next chapter as well:**_

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 **Chapter 2**

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Gilligan followed Mr. Silver across the deck. Another sailor came along with them. Gilligan didn't know this man's name, and was sort of scared to ask for it.

"Let's have him work on untangling the ropes on the small anchors," The second sailor suggested.

Mr. Silver nodded. "You could manage that, right little fellow?" He looked toward Gilligan, who frowned back up at him. Gilligan wasn't exactly eager to get to work.

"Come on, kid," The second sailor's voice grew serious. "I'm not asking you. This is an order. Untangle the ropes, and then put the anchors back where they go. Understand?" He took a step forward and gripped Gilligan's forearm pretty hard.

Gilligan gulped and nodded. He didn't want to make this guy mad. He was a pretty big guy, and his grip seemed rather threatening.

"Alright. Get to it," The sailor demanded.

Gilligan walked over to a huge pile of ropes with anchors tied onto the ends of them. They weren't small anchors, as the sailor had described them. Each of them was larger than the one anchor The Minnow had. This ship must have just needed larger anchors since it was a larger ship.

"I'm sorry about Stevens," Mr. Silver spoke up as soon as the second sailor left. "He can be a little harsh. A lot of the sailors around here are."

Gilligan frowned as he knelt down, grabbed one of the ropes and started untangling it. "Why? Why is everyone here so mean?"

"A lot of us were just like you and your captain once, Gilligan," Silver informed him as he took a spot on deck next to Gilligan and started working on one of the ropes. "Captain O'Neil doesn't recruit most of his crew in a very honest way. We've all been collected from the sea over the years, and are forced to work the ship in exchange for not being marooned somewhere. If we want to go on living without punishment, we work. If we want to be fed, be allowed sleep, and not be beaten, we do a good job with our work. The punishment for failure is steep."

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Gilligan looked down at the ropes in his hands. That sounded very frightening. "How did you end up on this ship?" He wondered, glancing back up at Silver.

"My ship sunk. I was a fisherman. I had my own little ship, more of a boat, really, which I was the captain of. My son and I worked on the ship together, fishing, and selling the fish we caught. We got caught up in a storm, the ship sunk, and my son drowned. I was nearly dead when these people pulled me from the water. At first I was grateful to be alive, yet depressed enough to not care what happened to me. After losing my son, I didn't feel like anything else mattered. I didn't really fight them when they demanded that I join the crew. I didn't feel like I had anything better to do and was certain I had nothing else to lose. But after being on this ship for weeks, and then months, and then years, I've found that the way this ship works isn't moral. I don't like seeing new recruits forced into working here, and I don't like seeing people punished for failing to do a job they never signed up for in the first place," Silver explained.

Gilligan frowned. "I'm sorry about your son," He said in a small voice. He couldn't imagine how devastated he'd have been if anyone on The Minnow had drowned during their ordeal.

"Thank you, Gilligan," Silver put his hand lightly on the younger man's arm.

"So are Skipper and I going to be stuck here forever?" Gilligan asked.

"I hope not, Gilligan," Silver replied. "When we go ashore, which is not often, but does happen, I'm going to try to help the two of you make your escape. I've helped people escape before... I've just got to be careful about it. If I get caught, I'd probably be killed."

Gilligan's eyes widened. "Maybe you shouldn't risk it," He whispered.

Silver smiled. "It's worth the risk. You two don't deserve to have to be forced to stay here."

"Why don't you sneak yourself away ever?" Gilligan wondered.

"I've got nowhere better to go," Mr. Silver shrugged. "It took a while for me to find my place here, but it's actually not so bad at this point. I've made friends, found my niche. I've got no life, no family anywhere else. Living and working here means I don't need to live and work on land. I don't mind this set up much, personally. I just don't like seeing others forced into a life they didn't choose for themselves. I feel it's a good use of my time to help O'Neil's future recruits. If I don't stay on the ship, no one will be around to help anyone escape."

Gilligan nodded. "Skipper and I would appreciate your help very much. I don't want to get stuck here. I like working on Skipper's ship. He doesn't make me work for him. He lets me."

Mr. Silver narrowed his eyes for a moment as he looked at Gilligan. "I'll do what I can. But you must remember to keep this between us."

"I will," Gilligan promised. He didn't want word to get out and for Mr. Silver to be punished for sneaking sailors off the ship.

"I'm going to get some work done," Mr. Silver clapped Gilligan's shoulder and stood. "I've got a long list of tasks I'm meant to accomplish every day. Can't afford to slack off."

"Okay," Gilligan suddenly felt quite nervous. "What do I do when I'm done with these?" He asked.

"Come find me. I'll likely be below deck," Silver explained. He gestured toward some stairs in the distance. "Go down those and if you don't see me, just ask someone where Silver is. They'll tell you. Some of the men on the ship are often in sour moods, but they shouldn't mind pointing you in the right direction."

"Oh... Okay," Gilligan still felt nervous. He didn't want to ask one of the sailors where Silver was. He hoped he could just find him on his own when the time came.

"See ya then," Silver smiled and waved before turning and walking toward the stairs.

Gilligan sighed and moved back toward the ropes. They were a complete mess. He wondered how they'd ended up so tangled.

As he worked on untangling the ropes, Gilligan looked out over the deck. The man who had threatened him earlier, Stevens, stood not too far away. He seemed to be fishing. Gilligan wished he could be in charge of fishing instead. He liked fishing.

He worked for a few more minutes as he watched the other members of the crew walking about. They all seemed to know exactly where they were going. They must have each been around for a while by now to be so sure in their steps. Gilligan wondered where Skipper was and what job he'd been given. He wished he could have worked alongside Skipper instead. Even if the job was harder, he'd at least not feel so vulnerable and alone. He didn't like sitting out here in the open among all of these strangers.

Gilligan finished one of the ropes and crawled over to the side of the ship, dragging the anchor with him. He supposed when Stevens told him to 'put the anchors where they go' after untangling the ropes, he meant to use them as anchors were intended to be used - to anchor the ship. He shoved it over and listened as it landed with a splash. He made his way over to the other ropes and started working on the next one.

As he untangled the second rope, he looked around the deck some more. Stevens, who was still fishing, looked over at him with narrowed eyes. Gilligan looked away.

"What was that sound?" He heard another sailor whose name he didn't know wonder aloud nearby.

Gilligan looked up again. He hadn't heard anything. He looked up at the sky. Maybe it had been a bird the other sailor heard. That would indicate that they were near land, which would be good for Gilligan's and Skipper's sake... But he didn't see any birds.

He stood up and peered over the edge of the ship. All he saw was water. Gilligan sat back down and continued working on the ropes. There were four anchors left. It didn't seem like the ship would need so many, but it was a pretty large ship. Maybe it took a lot of heavy weight to keep the ship from drifting away. Or maybe some of the anchors were extras, in case they lost one.

Gilligan finished untangling the second rope and then dragged the anchor over to the side of the ship and tossed it over. It landed with a splash, just as the first one had.

With a gasp, Gilligan watched as the rope attached to the anchor followed the weight down into the sea. The entire rope disappeared under the surface of the water. Gilligan's eyes widened as he looked for the rope of the first anchor. Is wasn't there. Neither of the ropes had been attached to anything. For some reason, he had assumed they were secured, but he never really checked. He'd just tossed them over. Two of the five anchors he'd been put in charge of were gone now. He'd messed up... as usual.

Gilligan nervously looked to his right. Stevens was staring at him and making his way over. Gilligan breathed in panicked breaths as he leaned forward and looked down into the water again. Were the anchors really gone? Was there anything he could do? He glanced back toward Stevens. The man looked angry.

"What the hell was that?" Stevens growled in an angry voice as he walked right up to Gilligan.

The younger sailor took a step back and shook his head. He didn't know what to say.

"You trying to sabotage the ship already?" Stevens accused. "And right here in front of me?"

"No-" Gilligan shook his head. "I didn't know... I didn't mean to-"

He was cut off when Stevens slapped him, pretty hard, across the face.

With a gasp, Gilligan stumbled back, falling down against the side of the ship and bringing his hand up to his stinging cheek.

"This is your ship now too, you little runt," Stevens growled as he reached down and grabbed at Gilligan's arms.

Gilligan swatted his hands at Stevens's, but the older man grabbed him and pulled him up to his feet anyway. Stevens's hands gripped Gilligan's upper arms very tightly as the large man continued yelling at him.

"Who do you think is going to pay to replace those anchors?" Stevens screamed.

"I don't know..." Gilligan's voice was small. "I don't have any money... I'm sorry..."

"Everyone on this ship is responsible for the ship, and responsible for pulling his own weight. Everything costs something. Repairs cost money, materials for sleeping quarters and food for the crew... It all costs. You've just got to make yourself more useful than what you cost to upkeep. It will cost all of us to keep you here - to keep you alive... You take up space and resources, as we all do. You've just got to be worth more than you cost. And so far, you haven't been," Stevens squeezed his arms tightly as he spoke.

Gilligan whimpered as he pulled uselessly at his arms. He was scared to try to shove this man away from him. "I didn't mean to throw the anchors over."

"How could you possibly do that by accident?" Stevens growled. "You accidentally picked them up? You accidentally walked them over to the edge, and accidentally hefted them over? You can't expect me to believe that..."

Gilligan shrunk down. "I thought they were tied down. You said to put them where they go when I was done... I thought they went in the water. I thought that was what you meant..."

"I should break your arm for this," Stevens threatened.

Gilligan shook his head and pulled at his arms, but the other sailor's grip was very painfully tight. "It was an accident! I swear!" Gilligan pleaded. "Please don't break my arm! I didn't mean to!" He was beginning to panic. Gilligan didn't know this man well enough to know if the threat was to be taken seriously. Was he just upset and speaking out of that anger? Or would he really deliver on his threats? He had hit Gilligan already, so it was clear the man was't opposed to violence.

The older man stared down at him and squeezed one of his large hands around Gilligan's arm in a very threatening, very painful way.

Gilligan winced in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't!" He begged, opening his eyes again and pulling uselessly at his arms. "I didn't mean to... I promise I didn't mean to..."

Stevens shook his head and sighed in frustration as he loosened his grip, but still didn't let Gilligan go. "We'll let the captain deal with you. This is not my damn job."

Stevens dragged Gilligan along with him.

"Please don't tell the captain!" Gilligan frowned. He didn't want O'Neil to be angry with him too... What would the captain do to him? Throw him overboard to let him be eaten by sharks?

"Somebody has to deal with your incompetence," Stevens grumbled. "And somehow you've got to learn... You don't throw our resources overboard without suffering consequences afterward."

"I thought they were tied down! I didn't know!" Gilligan persisted as Stevens dragged him toward the captain's quarters. "I said I was sorry," Gilligan reminded the other man. That was usually good enough when he messed up around Skipper. An apology always made things better.

"Captain!" Stevens knocked on the captain's door with one hand and held tightly onto Gilligan's arm with the other.

"Who is it?" A voice wondered from behind the door.

"Stevens," The other man answered. "Your new recruit was caught throwing supplies overboard. Thought you'd want to deal with him."

Gilligan whimpered and tried to pull his arm out of Stevens's grip. The man was holding onto him too hard.

"Come on in," O'Neil offered.

Gilligan was dragged into the room and shoved forward so that he was between Stevens and O'Neil.

"What exactly is the problem, men?" O'Neil asked.

"Silver and I put the kid to work untangling the ropes on the small anchors. It looked like he was doing the work, but when I watched more closely, I noticed he was tossing the anchors overboard. We lost two," Stevens explained. "He's trying to sabotage the ship."

"I'm not," Gilligan insisted as he looked from O'Neil to Stevens. "I promise... It was an accident!"

"You can go back to work, Stevens," O'Neil ordered. "I'll sort this out."

Gilligan gulped as Stevens exited and left the young sailor alone with the pirate captain. He wondered if O'Neil was going to order him to walk the plank... or cut off his hand and give him a hook-hand in its place. Or cut off his foot and give him a peg-leg. Maybe that's how all the pirates in stories ended up with all their missing limbs and eye patches. Maybe they'd messed up like Gilligan did, and were punished for it.

"What's your side of this story, boy?" O'Neil demanded. He looked somewhat angry, but narrowed his eyes inquisitively as though willing to listen to what Gilligan had to say.

"He told me, 'untangle the ropes and then put the anchors back where they go,'" Gilligan explained. "I figured he wanted me to throw them over, to anchor the ship. I figured that's what he meant... So I untangled the ropes and then tossed them over. It wasn't 'til the second one that I realized they weren't secured to anything. I didn't mean to throw them over... I mean, I did mean to, but I didn't mean to lose them. I thought they were tied down."

O'Neil looked at him for a moment, but didn't speak.

"I didn't mean to," Gilligan said again when the silence was too scary. "I thought they were tied to the ship. I wasn't trying to sabotage anything. I didn't mean to..."

O'Neil nodded. "I believe you. You wouldn't have bothered to untangle the ropes if you were just going to throw the whole thing over. And no offense, kid, but you seem kinda... scatterbrained. It doesn't surprise me that you'd throw anchors overboard without thinking to secure them first."

Gilligan frowned, but he supposed it would be better for the captain to think he was an idiot than to think he was up to something.

"Even so, you've got to be punished," The captain went on. "What you did wasn't as bad as it could have been. You had no ill intentions, but you were careless, and it did cost my ship resources. A punishment will help you learn to be more careful."

Gilligan shrunk down and considered darting toward the door and running. He knew he had nowhere he could go, but he was scared of what the captain might do.

"I don't dislike you, kid," O'Neil continued. "And I don't want to hurt you. I generally reserve physical punishment for those who have ill intent, or who screw up so often they seem impossible to teach otherwise."

Gilligan gulped. That sounded like him. O'Neil didn't know it yet, but this was probably not going to be Gilligan's last mistake.

"I'm going to hold back your food rations for today. It's a minor punishment. Something that won't break you, but will remind you that mistakes have consequence," O'Nail decided.

Gilligan felt his shoulders slump. He had already gone without food for all of yesterday and today. Maybe he'd have to try to sneak something from wherever the kitchen on this ship was.

"I'm going to give you another job. One which you can't possibly mess up," O'Neil continued. "If you go back on deck, there's a sort of alcove parallel to the crow's nest with a broom. Just sweep the entire deck. Any dust, dirt, fish scales... whatever's on the deck that shouldn't be, sweep it off. You can manage that, can't you?"

Gilligan nodded.

"Remember to say out of the dining area. I have eyes all over this ship. You are not to eat anything until tomorrow," O'Neil warned. "Only water for you."

"You have eyes all over the ship?" Gilligan grimaced. "Are you guys, like, ghost pirates? With supernatural ghostly abilities?"

"What?" O'Neil stared at him for a moment before laughing. "It's a figure of speech, kid. I don't literally have eyeballs lying around... I mean my men will be on watch. I have a loyal crew who keeps an eye on things when and where I can't."

"Oh," Gilligan looked down at the floor.

"Gilligan, I can barely believe you're a real person," O'Neil seemed extremely amused.

"Well, I am," Gilligan frowned as he looked up at the captain.

"You're too sensitive, boy," O'Neil clapped him on the shoulder and led him toward the door. "Get out there and sweep that deck. I'll send someone out to find you when night falls. You and your friend, Grumby will be set up with some place to sleep near each other."

"Really?" Gilligan turned toward the older man. He hadn't been sure if he was going to get to sleep ever again. It seemed like he and Skipper were just going to have to be pirates, working non-stop with no payoff for he rest of eternity.

"Of course," O'Neil frowned down at him. "I'm not heartless. I don't want you two up to anything, but I can't very well force a friendship apart. You'll still get to be around your friend. It's good for morale to have a crew who aren't completely miserable."

Gilligan nodded and allowed O'Neil to lead him back outside.

"If you aren't sure of anything or need something else to do, ask someone," O'Neil instructed.

Gilligan nodded, but he doubted that would happen. He didn't want to talk to any of the other sailors unless he absolutely had to.

 **xxxxxx**


	3. Chapter 3

_**This one's kinda short...**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 3**

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At the end of the day, after having been forced to skip both lunch and dinner, Gilligan was shown to a rather run-down looking room that he was meant to use as his sleeping quarters. At the moment, he was the only one in the room. It was small, smelled musty, and had one very thin mattress lying on the floor. The room was basically empty besides the mattress and a small lamp which hung on the wall. The lamp illuminated the room just about as much as a couple candles would have. The mattress took up over half of the floor space. The room was tiny. It seemed like it may have originally been a storage closet.

Even so, Gilligan hoped that O'Neil's promise would be kept and that Skipper would be shown to the same room soon. Gilligan didn't want to spend all of his time alone or with people who scared him. He wanted to have a chance to talk to Skipper again, and to have the older man reassure him that everything was going to end up being okay. At the moment, Gilligan was alone, and certainly felt the affects of it. He was scared and uncertain. He feared he'd never get off this ship, and didn't know if he could function being so on his own, with no one kind, understanding, or patient to keep his mind at ease.

Gilligan sat down on the mattress and sighed a heavy breath. He hated it here. He was tired, hungry, and his feet hurt from standing all day. The room was cold and unwelcoming and the mattress was not very comfortable. He also hadn't talked to anyone friendly since Mr. Silver had left him on deck. He felt very defeated.

Though Gilligan had managed to fly under the radar of the pirate sailors throughout the rest of the day, he still feared they might be upset with him. He hadn't managed to mess up any of the other tasks he'd found for himself - which included untangling some nets and ropes and sweeping debris from the deck, but that work was actually done fairly quickly. He'd spent the rest of the day hiding. If anyone found out that he'd spent hours of his shift not really working, they'd probably be upset with him.

Gilligan looked up when he heard a soft knock on the door. He swallowed a lump in his throat and stared as the door creaked open. When he saw it was his Skipper, he breathed a sigh of relief and jumped up, taking a few steps to the door and embracing Skipper in a hug.

"We gotta get out of here, Little Buddy," Skipper spoke in a soft, tired voice as he hugged Gilligan back. "It's not worth it working this hard on a ship that's not even mine... And I'm pretty sure we're not going to be paid for our work either."

"I don't like it here, Skipper," Gilligan agreed as he continued hugging Skipper. He was so glad to be with his captain again. No matter how scary the situation, Skipper always put Gilligan's mind at ease. As long as Skipper was there, Gilligan felt safe. Even if they were on a terrifying pirate ship.

"You alright, Little Buddy?" Skipper pulled back and looked Gilligan over. "What work did they have you doing? I didn't see you all day."

"I didn't see you either, Skipper," Gilligan frowned. "I swept the deck and untangled fishing nets and ropes... but I messed up and threw the anchors over when I wasn't supposed to. They weren't tied down."

"Gilligan," Skipper sighed. "I told you to always check..."

"I know..." Gilligan looked down.

"Hey," Skipper's voice sounded more stern now as he put his fingers under Gilligan's chin and tilted his face so he could see him. Skipper frowned. "Did somebody hit you?"

The older man looked angry as he stared down at Gilligan with questioning eyes. Gilligan wondered if he should even answer truthfully. If Skipper confronted Stevens about this, it might only get Gilligan and his captain into more trouble.

"Gilligan," Skipper's tone was serious. "Who did that to you?"

"Who did what?" Gilligan faked confusion as he shrugged out of Skipper's grip.

"That bruise on your cheek. Someone hit you. Who did it, Gilligan?" Skipper asked again.

Gilligan frowned. He supposed lying wasn't an option. "Mr. Stevens... One of the sailors. He saw me throw the anchors over and thought I was trying to sabotage the ship."

Skipper shook his head. "He had no right to hit you... You show me which one he is tomorrow. I'll set him straight."

"Skipper, don't..." Gilligan objected. "You'll just make him mad... He's kinda scary."

For a moment, Skipper just stared at him. "I'm not letting that happen again," He frowned. "You and I are going to work the same job tomorrow, no matter what they say. No one treats my little buddy like that. Maybe that sailor, Stevens thinks he's a tough man, picking on a little guy like you... We'll see how tough he is when he comes face to face with me."

"You're just gonna make them mad, Skipper," Gilligan winced. He was quite aware that it seemed if he and Skipper didn't follow orders, pain would follow. There were enough sailors on this ship that they were outnumbered and outmatched. Disobeying would likely result in physical punishment, as O'Neil had mentioned before.

"I don't care," Skipper frowned. "What more can they do? If you're tying to do what they ask, and they hit you anyway, why even bother remaining compliant?"

"Because they could hit me harder next time," Gilligan's shoulders slumped. Maybe Skipper felt things couldn't get any worse, but Gilligan knew they could.

"No one's gonna hit you at all, Little Buddy," Skipper promised. "I'll make sure of it."

Gilligan exhaled. It didn't seem like Skipper was going to listen to him. The older man was probably going to end up getting them both in trouble. Gilligan knew telling his captain about Stevens wouldn't lead to anything good. At least he'd managed to avoid mentioning O'Neil's punishment though.

"Let's get some sleep," Skipper suggested, looking around the small room and frowning when he saw the thin, not-so-comfortable-looking mattress. "We've gotta get off this ship, Gilligan. I'd prefer being on the island to this."

"Me too," Gilligan climbed down onto the mattress and laid back. "We don't even get a blanket," He pouted. "It's cold in here."

"We won't have to stay here much longer," Skipper spoke as he laid down next to his fried. "I'm gonna figure this out."

"Just don't make the others too mad," Gilligan advised.

"I'll do what I have to do," Skipper countered as he turned over and faced Gilligan.

Gilligan frowned and wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered. "Why is it so cold in here?" He wondered.

"Come here," Skipper stretched his hand out and gestured for Gilligan to scoot closer to him.

Gilligan crawled over so that he was against Skipper's chest and allowed the older man to wrap his arm around his shoulders. He was immediately warmer.

"Thanks, Skipper," Gilligan smiled as he snuggled against his friend.

"No problem, Gilligan," Skipper replied. "That's what I'm here for. I'm not about to leave my Little Buddy to shiver all night when there's something I can do about it."

Gilligan smiled and closed his eyes. For the first time all day, he felt safe and optimistic. Maybe things really would be okay. Maybe he and Skipper really could escape this mess.

 **xxxxxx**

 **:D _Snuggles._**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks for the review and/or for coming back for Chapter 4. I love reviews, but even you just taking your time to read what I've written is a compliment in itself. This one is one of the longer chapters, and perhaps my favorite in the whole story. I hope you like it:**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 4**

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Skipper did his best to keep himself from moving as he lay on the thin mattress in the small, closet-like room. Though the captain hadn't managed to get much sleep during the night, his young first mate didn't seem to have the same issue. Gilligan always seemed to be able to fall asleep pretty much anywhere though.

Staring silently down at Gilligan, Skipper contemplated what he was going to do to get them out of this situation. As angry as he was about the captain of this ship forcing them to join the crew, he was a thousand times more angry at the sailor who had hit Gilligan.

It made his heart ache to know that someone could be so cruel. Skipper knew better than anyone how frustrating Gilligan could be. The young man had screwed up in the captain's presence more times than Skipper could count. Even so, he'd never felt the urge to slap him across the face. Sure, he'd hit him lightly with his captain's hat or gently shove him to the side if he was in the way, but his intent was never to actually hurt the younger man. Gilligan was simply too innocent for any of his mistakes to invoke such rage. No matter how much he destroyed everything around him, the fact that it was unintentional made it too easy to forgive him.

Skipper looked down at Gilligan's face. The bruise on his cheek was darker now than it had been last night, but at least he looked peaceful as he slept. He wasn't shivering anymore and his facial expression appeared relatively content.

Any minute now, Skipper expected someone from the ship's crew to come and demand that he and Gilligan get to work. He wondered if he should beat them to the punch, take Gilligan along with him, and go speak directly to the captain. Gilligan wasn't going to be left by himself with these people again. He was going to work with Skipper, and that was final. It didn't matter to Skipper if the captain or the crew didn't like it. He was either going to get his way on this, or they weren't going to cooperate anymore. It was hard enough to agree to work on this ship in exchange for not being harmed, but if they were going to mistreat Gilligan anyway, the deal was off.

Skipper looked down when Gilligan stirred next to him. The younger man's eyes fluttered open and he stretched slightly.

Gilligan looked at Skipper with a frown and then looked silently around the room. "Aww," Gilligan groaned, looking back up at Skipper's face. "I thought maybe all this had been a dream..."

"No such luck, Gilligan," Skipper frowned to as he sat up on the mattress. "But today's going to be better. You and I are going to work together, whether they like it or not."

Gilligan sat up as well, but his shoulders slumped as he stared at Skipper with a pout and furrowed eyebrows. "I think maybe we should just do what they say," He suggested.

"Come on," Skipper stood up and offered his hand down to Gilligan. "We're going to go talk to the captain. They can't expect us to just fall in line for no reason. I'll do their work if they let you work alongside me. There's no way I'm doing what they say while they push you around."

Gilligan took his hand and let Skipper pull him to his feet, but he still looked uncertain. "Skipper, if we don't do what they want us to, they might do something crazy. There's more of them than there are of us."

"You did what they said, Gilligan," Skipper frowned. "And one of them hit you anyway. They've given you no reason to keep doing as you're told."

"They have knives and stuff, Skipper," Gilligan reminded him. "They could do more than just hitting us. And they could throw us overboard."

"I'd almost welcome that, Little Buddy," Skipper considered.

"Not me," Gilligan frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd rather get hit a couple times than be killed."

"Don't worry, Little Buddy," Skipper put his arm around Gilligan's shoulders. "They won't kill us. Just leave it up to me. Everything's gonna be okay."

Skipper led Gilligan along with him toward the captain's quarters. He hoped the man was awake already, but if he wasn't, he'd just have to deal with it. Skipper was through being a pushover.

When he reached the captain's room, Skipper knocked firmly on the door.

"Who is it?" O'Neil's voice asked on the other side.

"Captain Jonas Grumby," Skipper answered in a strong voice.

"Come on in, Grumby," O'Neil's voice actually sounded like the other captain welcomed Skipper's presence.

Skipper opened the door and pulled Gilligan along with him inside.

"Good morning, men," O'Neil smiled at them. "Did you sleep well? Are you needing work assignments?"

"No, and no," Skipper stared at the man. "Gilligan and I are working together today. I'm not leaving him alone with your violent crew ever again. I know he's not perfect. He makes mistakes. But he tries his best, and would never do anything to purposefully disrupt whatever business you're trying to run here. I won't stand for anyone taking out their frustration on him."

O'Neil frowned as he looked over toward Gilligan, who was practically hiding behind Skipper. "Was someone violent with you, kid?" He wondered.

"You know very well that someone was," Skipper growled. He didn't like this man playing dumb. "I think the bruise on his cheek is evidence enough. And the fact that you probably ordered your sailors to abuse anyone who makes a mistake on your ship..."

"I did no such thing," O'Neil shook his head. He looked back toward Gilligan. "Did Stevens hit you yesterday? Before he brought you in here?"

Skipper could feel Gilligan's fingers gripping the back of his shirt, but the younger man answered O'Neil. "Yes," He admitted. "Only once though..."

"He didn't have permission to do that," O'Neil frowned, glancing with a frown at Gilligan for a half second before looking back toward Skipper. "I'll have a talk with him. Until then, yes, the two of you may work together today. You've proven that you're not up to anything. Besides Gilligan's error yesterday, you've both done an adequate job with your various tasks. But there is an issue with what jobs you're each suited for."

"We could be in charge of fishing," Gilligan suggested in a nervous voice.

"Gilligan's good at fishing," Skipper noted. It was one of the only things he was good at... As long as there was nothing valuable behind him for him to accidentally hook and cast out into the sea, fishing was something he could actually handle and even excel at.

"Alright," O'Neil agreed. "Have at it. You'll find the equipment you need out on deck. Just don't toss any of it overboard," He added, winking at Gilligan.

Gilligan nodded. "I won't," He promised.

Skipper smiled and squeezed Gilligan's shoulder. "Let's get to it then."

"Captain," Gilligan spoke up before they left.

"Yes, Gilligan?" O'Neil offered him a smile.

"What time is lunch?" Gilligan wondered.

O'Neil laughed. "High noon. You can deliver whatever fish you catch down to the kitchen at midday and then go ahead and stay down there for a half-hour or so for lunch."

Skipper nodded and led Gilligan out of the room.

"Did you not have lunch yesterday?" Skipper wondered. Gilligan should have already known when lunch was served. Skipper hadn't seen him down in the dining area for lunch or dinner the previous day, but he'd arrived to both meals later than some of the sailors, as they tried to not all be off-duty at once. He had assumed Gilligan had just already come and gone by the time Skipper arrived.

The younger man shook his head. "It was punishment for throwing the anchors overboard," He explained.

Skipper frowned as he took one of several fishing poles from the deck and handed it to Gilligan. He took another for himself and hooked some bait onto it. "That doesn't seem fair, Gilligan." Skipper noted.

"It's okay," Gilligan shrugged. "I'm hungry now, but it'll all be a distant memory by tomorrow."

Skipper smiled and cast his line out into the water. It would have been easy for him to be enraged by the fact that Gilligan had been deprived of lunch and dinner, but he figured it wasn't worth arguing over since the captain had so easily given him what he wanted just now. Lunch would be served in five or so hours anyway...

"You didn't miss much," Skipper noted as he and Gilligan stood on the deck, waiting for some fish to come along and take their bait.

"What was it?" Gilligan wondered.

"Some very watery fish soup and and stale bread," Skipper answered. "I'd have taken one of Mary Ann's banana-coconut-fried-fish over it any day."

"That sounds good right about now though," Gilligan commented with a laugh. "Either of those things."

"Hunger will make a man eat some pretty strange things," Skipper agreed.

"What was in the soup?" Gilligan wondered.

Skipper glanced over toward him. The younger man had a habit of talking about food when he was hungry. It was actually quite annoying sometimes, as he'd start going on and on about things they had no access to, which just made everyone else even more hungry for things like milkshakes and french fries - things they had no way to even try to duplicate on the island.

"Were there potatoes?" Gilligan kept going.

"Yes, there were," Skipper finally decided to just go along with it. If Gilligan wanted to talk about food he couldn't have for another several hours, Skipper supposed he could. "And carrots... But that was about all."

"Fish, potatoes, and carrots?" Gilligan looked over toward his captain. "That doesn't sound great, to be honest."

"I told you," Skipper laughed. "And the bread was crunchy."

Gilligan wrinkled his nose. "Why don't they cook anything good?"

"Maybe they haven't been to shore in a while," Skipper shrugged. "Maybe they're low on ingredients. Hey! I think I've got a bite!" Skipper interrupted his own train of thought as he felt something tug on his line. He reeled the line in slowly, hoping to keep the fish interested in his bait until whatever it was tugged on his line harder, indicating that it had been hooked. He reeled the fish in.

"Wow, Skipper!" Gilligan exclaimed with a smile as he looked at Skipper's catch. "That's huge!"

Skipper couldn't help a prideful smile, but the fish wasn't the biggest he'd ever caught. His first mate was easily impressed, but the fact that Gilligan admired him so still boosted Skipper's self-esteem.

Gilligan retrieved a sort of bin which the sailors had seemingly been using to store their freshly-caught fish. "We'll have it filled up in no time," Gilligan grinned.

The two of them continued fishing for the next several hours. Gilligan kept track of how many each of them caught, as he seemed to want to make a game out of it.

"I'm gonna get my fifth one soon," Gilligan promised. "And it's gonna be bigger than all yours combined, so it can count as three, and then I'll be ahead of you."

"Not if I catch another one first," Skipper smiled toward his friend. "And I don't think you can count one big fish as three smaller ones. That doesn't seem fair."

"It'll seem fair when you see how big my fish is," Gilligan countered.

Skipper rolled his eyes and looked back over the ocean. He didn't know why Gilligan felt so certain his next fish was going to be so big. Considering the amount of mistakes the first mate made, he had a strangely strong sense of confidence sometimes.

"Maybe I'll catch a whale," Gilligan went on. "But then, we'd have to let him go. I wouldn't feel right eating a whale."

Skipper continued staring out toward the waves. Sometimes Gilligan could go on and on without ever requiring a response. He certainly talked a lot. So much that sometimes he could carry a whole conversation all by himself and not even notice that whoever was nearby never offered any input.

"Or it could be a giant sea turtle, but I don't know if I'd want to eat that either," The younger sailor commented. "Or a shark. That would be scary. Even though a shark would probably eat me, I don't think I'd eat a shark. Sometimes you gotta respect things that are bigger than you, even if they wouldn't respect you back. I don't know why that is though. I kinda respect sharks. I appreciate that they could have eaten me lots of times, but they haven't yet."

Skipper glanced over toward Gilligan. Sometimes he wondered how the kid managed to talk so much without anyone indicating that they were even listening. Skipper was listening, of course, but as far as Gilligan knew, he was talking to only himself.

"I wonder if a mermaid would take the kind of bait we're using. Something about mermaids make me think they may be vegetarians," Gilligan speculated."Since they kind of _are_ part fish, it would be cannibalism otherwise. But maybe they'd eat something weird like squid. Maybe I could catch a squid. Would you eat a squid, Skipper?"

Skipper shook his head. "I don't know, Gilligan. Maybe if I was desperate."

"I don't think I'd eat one," Gilligan answered his own question.

Before the younger man could start talking about any other sorts of aquatic life, his guess at the future came true. Something huge tugged on his line, hard enough to pull him rather harshly toward the ship's railing.

"Gilligan!" Skipper was ready to take a few steps toward him to help him with the line, but whatever was on the end of it tugged on it again before he could, yanking him right over the edge of the ship.

Gilligan yelped and landed with a splash.

"I was right, Skipper!" He called up as soon as Skipper ran over to the edge and peered down at him. "I did catch something huge." Gilligan coughed as a wave crashed down over his head. "I wonder what it is."

"Hang on, Gilligan," Skipper called down. "I'm gonna find a life-preserver and toss it down."

He turned around in time to see that Gilligan's fall had attracted the attention of a few other sailors.

"I'll find it," One of them offered. "I know where one is."

Skipper nodded and looked back over the edge at his friend. By now, Gilligan seemed a bit more panicked. Skipper frowned.

"It's still pulling on the line," Gilligan called up to him as another wave crashed over him. He was treading water with one arm, and gripping the fishing pole tightly in his other hand. "It keeps trying to pull me under!" Gilligan gasped as his head dipped below the surface of the water for a few seconds.

"Let go of the pole, Little Buddy!" Skipper ordered.

"No!" Gilligan gripped at the pole with both hands, which meant he couldn't tread water at the same time. His head dipped below the waves again, but he emerged a few seconds later coughing and sputtering frantically. "I can't lose the pole. I'll be in trouble!"

"Gilligan!" Skipper grimaced. "You've gotta let it go! You'll drown!"

Gilligan shook his head and coughed again as another wave washed over him and as he tried to keep himself afloat with only one arm. When he was jerked downward again, he gripped desperately at the pole with two hands once more.

Skipper looked back over his shoulder to see if the other sailor had come back with the life preserver. He hadn't returned yet. Skipper gripped the ship's railing tightly and looked over. "Gilligan, let the pole go!" He ordered in a more stern voice.

"No!" Gilligan gasped. His voice shook and another wave crashed violently over him yet again as he continued struggling with the pole.

Skipper knew what he had to do. Gilligan was't going to let the pole go, and if he didn't, he was going to end up drowning himself. The waves were harsh enough that Skipper would have been worried about Gilligan even if the fishing pole wasn't factored into this mess. Skipper had to go in after him.

"Hang on, Little Buddy!" He called down to Gilligan. "I'm coming down there!"

He dove into the water, landing a few yards away from his first mate.

"Try to keep your head above water, Gilligan!" Skipper urged. "Just let the pole go. Keep your head above water."

"I'm tryi-" Gilligan was interrupted when his head dipped below the water again. He managed raise his head back up for a few seconds, long enough to desperately cough. "Skip-" His weak voice was interrupted again as more water washed over him.

"Hold on, Gilligan!" Skipper called over as he started making his way toward his little buddy.

Skipper made quick work swimming over to Gilligan, whose struggles were becoming more frantic even though he was obviously becoming exhausted. He disappeared under the water once again as whatever he'd hooked on his line tugged harder.

"Gilligan!" Skipper growled as he reached his friend and wrapped his arm firmly around Gilligan's body. Gilligan's body was limp by this point. Skipper hoped he hadn't been too slow in his decision to jump in after him.

By now, the other sailor up on deck had returned with the life preserver. He tossed it over and it landed a yard or so away from Skipper and Gilligan.

"Come on, Little Buddy," Skipper was beginning to feel panicked too now that Gilligan was no longer moving. "We're almost there..." He grabbed the life preserver in one hand and held tightly onto Gilligan with the other. "Pull us up!" He demanded.

The other sailors did as ordered. When Skipper and his first mate reached the deck, one of the sailors pulled Gilligan out of Skipper's gasp, lying him down on the deck while another sailor grabbed Skipper's arms to help pull him up over the railing as well.

Skipper immediately shrugged out of their grip and made his way over to his friend.

Gilligan lay un-moving on the deck, with his eyes closed.

"Gilligan," Skipper spoke in a low, but frantic voice as he put his hand on Gilligan's chest. Skipper felt a heart beat, but Gilligan didn't seem to be breathing. "Little Buddy!" Skipper put his other hand on Gilligan's face. He was fully prepared to start CPR when Gilligan starting coughing and gasping for breaths.

Skipper breathed an immediate sigh of relief as he pulled his friend into a sitting position and then wrapped his arms around the smaller man's shoulders. "Gilligan, you could have gotten yourself killed!" He chastised, hugging Gilligan even while he yelled at the younger man. "I told you to let go of the pole! It wasn't worth your life."

Gilligan continued coughing and gasping as he trembled under Skipper's arms. He looked around himself and then let out a small whimper. "Where's the fishing pole?" He wondered in an uncertain, strained voice. "I lost it?"

"Yeah, you lost it," Skipper spoke, but he was not in a calm enough mood to be gentle in his explanations. He was angry with Gilligan for placing a higher value on a fishing pole than on his own life. "You almost drowned, Gilligan!" He spoke as he drew back from the hug so he could look his friend in the eyes. He put his hands firmly on Gilligan's arms and continued. "You shouldn't care about a fishing pole right now. If I'd have waited a minute or two later to decide to jump in after you, you wouldn't be worrying about anything, much less worrying about an insignificant little fishing pole."

Gilligan continued trembling as he shrunk down under Skipper's hands.

"The captain said," Gilligan interrupted himself with a fit of coughing. "The captain... said-" He started coughing again.

"I don't care what the captain said," Skipper spoke. He had an idea that the captain had probably warned Gilligan against screwing up and losing more supplies, but that didn't matter. Gilligan had no obligation to risk his own life for O'Neil's supplies, and Skipper wasn't going to stand for Gilligan facing any sort of punishment for this. "When I tell you to let go of a fishing pole, you need to do it. I'm your Skipper, Gilligan. The orders I give are captain's orders. You're to follow them."

"This isn't your ship though," Gilligan rasped before coughing again. "I have to follow _this_ ship's captain's orders." He shook under Skipper's hands as he spoke in a trembling voice. "The captain said-"

"Gilligan! It doesn't matter!" Skipper persisted. "On my ship or not, you're still _my_ first mate, and you're to do what _I_ order!" He knew he sounded harsh, but Gilligan's refusal to listen to Skipper nearly cost the younger man his life.

Gilligan continued coughing but didn't argue anymore. Skipper frowned. As frustrated as he was with the younger man for risking his life to save a fishing pole, he couldn't stay mad at Gilligan, especially not when the young man seemed so vulnerable.

"You okay, Little Buddy?" Skipper wondered as he lightly patted Gilligan's back.

Gilligan nodded, but continued coughing and his body trembled slightly under Skipper's touch, probably because he was soaking wet and still struggling to regain a normal breathing pattern.

"Don't you ever do that again, Gilligan," Skipper demanded, keeping his voice calmer this time.

"Do what?" Gilligan asked in a small, breathless voice.

"Risk your life like that," Skipper frowned. "There is no fishing pole in the world worth more than you are."

Gilligan nodded, but didn't say anything. Instead, he continued breathing in shaking, uneven breaths.

"My goodness, kid," A voice called out from behind them. Skipper looked over his shoulder to see Captain O'Neil approaching. "How did you manage this?"

 **xxxxxx**

 _ **Poor Gilligan... just can't do anything right, can he? :(**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**I know at least one person is still reading... Thanks, friend. :) Here's the next chapter:**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 5**

 **xxxxxx**

Gilligan shivered as he looked up toward Captain O'Neil, who was hovering over him and Skipper and waiting for an explanation. Gilligan didn't know what to say. The last time he'd made a mistake, no one cared that it was an accident. He'd been hit and denied lunch and dinner anyway. He was certain this time would be no different. He also wasn't sure he could really articulate an answer right now. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Skipper was quick to answer the man himself.

"We're fine," Skipper assured the other man. He kept his arm protectively around Gilligan's shoulders as he spoke. "Gilligan got pulled overboard by something on the end of his fishing line, but we're okay now. It's sorted out."

O'Neil narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Gilligan. "I warned you against this kind of incompetence."

Gilligan inhaled a shaky breath. His lungs ached and his throat was scratchy. Before he could speak up in his own defense, Skipper did.

"There was nothing he could have done to prevent this," Skipper assured the other man. "He didn't do anything wrong. Whatever was on the end of that line pulled him right over the edge and nearly drowned him. It could have happened to anyone."

"It hasn't happened to anyone else," O'Neil noted with raised eyebrows. "Every man on this boat has taken his turn being in charge of fishing. No one else has been pulled overboard by a giant fish. No one else has lost a fishing pole."

"I tried to hold onto it," Gilligan promised in a small voice. Talking made his throat tickle. He proceeded to cough a few times. "I don't know what was on the end of the line," He coughed again, "but it was too big. It kept pulling me under."

"If you can't handle fishing, you shouldn't have volunteered for it," O'Neil glowered down at him. "You're costing me more than you're worth. The resources on this ship are meant to be used with care, and only used by those who are properly trained to use them. Your carelessness keeps costing me. That can't go unpunished."

Gilligan shrunk down toward Skipper, who was still kneeling on the deck next to him, with his arms still around his young friend. "I tried not to let go," Gilligan squeaked in a scratchy voice. "I really did..."

"If you're incapable of hanging on to a fishing pole, you shouldn't have been put in charge of manning one," O'Neil continued, his voice increasing in volume as he was clearly becoming agitated. "Is there anything you are properly trained in? Is there anything you actually know how to do without destroying everything in your path?"

With a whimper, Gilligan looked down at the deck. He wasn't much good at most things, and he knew that. He always just counted on people like Skipper giving him a second, third, or fourth chance. O'Neil clearly wasn't as patient.

"Now wait just a minute," Skipper growled as he stared up at the other captain. "You're being unfair. Gilligan did everything he could to hold onto that pole. When he was yanked over the railing, it was a complete accident. Even so, he held onto the pole even when whatever he'd hooked kept pulling him under. He held onto it even when he couldn't keep his own head above the water due to his efforts being put into hanging onto the pole instead. He only let go when he lost consciousness. He nearly died to save your worthless fishing pole!"

"But he didn't save it," O'Neil sighed. "There are ways to teach people to be more careful..."

Gilligan frowned as he looked up at O'Neil, who was frowning back down at him.

"Like I said before," O'Neil began, "I don't dislike you, kid... But you've gotta learn. Nobody on this ship should be more of a liability than an asset. You keep screwing up." The captain shook his head as he talked. "And I can't just keep starving you. You'll just get weaker and more likely to fail at everything you do... if that's even possible."

Shrinking back against Skipper's arms, Gilligan stared up at the ship's captain. He wondered if he should even argue. It's not like he could get up and run away from the guy. Where would he go? Making a big deal out of this would only mean Skipper would be angry. O'Neil would get more angry... The other pirates would be angry... There was no way out.

"Sir," Gilligan spoke up in a small, strained voice. "I'm gonna accidentally mess up everything you ask me to do." He paused to cough a few times. "I don't mean to... but I can tell you already that I mess up a lot. There's nothing that's ever solved that about me."

"Probably because no one's beaten any sense into you yet," O'Neil was not smiling as he said this. He wasn't joking.

Gilligan felt his breaths becoming frantic. He didn't want to be physically punished. While he wasn't sure what exactly O'Neil's punishment would be, he knew it would be painful, and he was scared.

"No one's going to either," Skipper's voice was strong as he continued to defend his first mate. "Gilligan didn't do anything wrong. He caught something that was bigger than expected. He couldn't have planned or been prepared for that... And he nearly got himself killed trying to hold on to your precious supplies. He already feared the consequences of losing the fishing pole. That's why he risked his life for it. There's nothing more you can do to instill in him the feeling that your supplies are worth their weight in gold."

The captain sighed heavily as he continued glowering down at Skipper and Gilligan. For a moment, Gilligan wondered what might happen. Maybe Skipper would be punished too, for arguing with O'Neil. He wondered what their punishments might be. Hopefully nothing too harsh. He'd hate to have a peg leg or hook hand after this... If the captain wanted to teach a lesson, that meant that the punishment wouldn't be death. At least there was that.

"I won't hurt him too badly, Grumby," O'Neil promised. "Let him go. It'll be quick. A few lashes. Not enough to really do any serious damage. Just enough to keep him in check." He looked toward Gilligan and cocked his head to the side, "Sorry, kid. Someone's gotta teach you. Maybe if your skipper had done this himself I wouldn't have to."

"No!" Skipper's stern voice refused. "I won't let you punish him when he did nothing wrong. If you lay a finger on him, or if anyone else here does, he and I won't cooperate anymore, and I mean that. I have no incentive to keep working on this dirty old ship if my first mate keeps getting hurt anyway. Why should we cooperate?"

"Because a few lashes to him is better than ten or twenty lashes to each of you?" O'Neil suggested. "Let him take his small punishment. You're only going to make things worse."

Gilligan felt himself shaking as he listened to the threats. The cool breeze blowing over his wet clothes made him shiver. He was also fearful about the situation he found himself in. He wished Skipper would just give up. He was only going to succeed in getting them into more trouble.

"Separate them," O'Neil ordered his men. "I'm done arguing over this."

Gilligan felt his eyes widen as several of the sailors closed in on them. Two of them pulled Gilligan up by his arms. It would have only taken one. Gilligan didn't fight back. He was too scared.

A whole four people were pulling Skipper up off the deck and holding him back.

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Skipper threatened.

"Take him to the brig," O'Neil ordered as he looked in Skipper's direction.

Skipper tried to fight back, and probably would have been successful if only two or three sailors were holding him. He managed to punch one of them pretty hard, but as soon as he started fighting, two more sailors jumped in to help keep him contained. He couldn't fight off six men, no matter how strong he was.

Gilligan felt himself pouting and almost wanted to cry as he watched Skipper being led away. He was more sad for Skipper now than he was for himself. Even though the other men weren't really hurting Skipper much, Gilligan could see that his captain was very upset, and it made the younger man's heart sink.

"Bring Mr. Gilligan over to the mast," O'Neil instructed.

Gilligan reluctantly allowed the two sailors gripping his arms to pull him along with them toward the ship's mast. He looked to his left. He didn't know the man holding onto that arm, but he wished the guy would loosen his grip a bit. Gilligan wasn't even fighting back. There was no reason for him to grip him so tightly. He glanced to his right to see Mr. Silver, the sailor who'd offered to help him and Skipper escape. He felt kind of betrayed that this guy, who he had grown to trust, was going along with all this.

"I promise this'll be quick, Gilligan," O'Neil spoke to him. "Remove your shirt."

"No," Gilligan refused, pulling at his arms in an attempt to free himself from the grip of the sailors. They held him too tightly.

"Take off his shirt," O'Neil ordered his sailors.

Gilligan whimpered as the other sailors made easy work of tugging both his shirt and his undershirt up over his head. His garments were tossed to the deck and landed with a sort of slapping sound, as they were still soaked with sea water.

"Don't fight, Gilligan," Silver advised in a low voice near Gilligan's ear.

Turning toward Mr. Silver, Gilligan frowned. He felt tears filling his eyes. "Please don't let them hit me," He begged.

Silver looked like he felt dreadful about this. He shook his head. "Gilligan, I can't do anything, Just hold still. It'll be over soon."

Gilligan squeezed his eyes shut as Silver held one of his arms down and the other sailor held down his other arm. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, toward the captain. "Mr. O'Neil, please don't... I'm sorry. I learned my lesson already. I won't volunteer to fish anymore. I promise to be more careful. Please don't hit me."

O'Neil shook his head. "I'm not going to hit you, Gilligan. Stevens is. He'll be as gentle as he can be. This is a minor punishment, not torture. I think you're building it up in your mind to be worse than it really will be."

"No! Mr. Stevens hates me!" Gilligan gasped. He knew the man wouldn't try to go easy on him. He'd already hit him pretty hard across the face when the captain never even asked him to.

"Shut up, Gilligan," O'Neil sounded annoyed. "I'm not debating this. Stevens, go ahead. Four lashes. Don't swing as hard as you can. Keep in mind who you're hitting. He's clearly not strong. You don't need to hit him that hard. Just enough so that he gets the message."

Before Gilligan had a chance to say anything else, he felt the first of the four lashes land across his back. He whimpered, pulled uselessly at his arms, and squeezed his eyes shut.

The second hit landed even harder, hard enough in fact that Gilligan couldn't help but to cry out in pain. He pulled at his arms in an attempt to get away, but the other sailors gripped him hard. He couldn't move. His back stung horribly where Stevens had hit him.

"Stop!" He begged through tears that were beginning to flow down his cheeks. He still couldn't pull his arms free. He couldn't even allow himself to fall to the deck. He had no choice but to stay standing and endure the punishment.

"Stevens," O'Neil's voice ordered. "Ease up. He's just a kid. This is a punishment for carelessness, not for murder. No need to be so harsh."

Stevens didn't care to listen to his captain, apparently. The third hit was even harder than the second. Gilligan cried out again and trembled as he pulled desperately at his restrained arms.

"Stevens!" O'Neil growled. "That's enough!"

Gilligan kept his eyes squeezed shut as he wondered if the fourth lash was ever going to be delivered.

"Lock him up," O'Neil ordered.

For a moment, Gilligan assumed the captain was referring to him. He was actually hopeful that he might be taken to the brig and locked in a cell with Skipper. But that was not the case. The sailor on Gilligan's left let go of him so that Gilligan could turn around. He saw Stevens being dragged off.

"I'm sorry about him," O'Neil shook his head as though disappointed as he looked in Gilligan's direction. "He'll face his own punishment later. I don't tolerate that kind of cruelty."

Gilligan had tears running down his cheeks. He didn't know what to say to the captain. He felt so embarrassed and hurt.

"Listen, kid," O'Neil continued. "I don't want you looking at me like that... Like I just kicked the shit out of you for no reason. Stevens hit you harder than he should have. I'll admit that. He's not going to get away with that behavior. But you did deserve to be punished."

Gilligan didn't argue. Instead, he pouted and tried to keep more tears from falling as he stared up at the ship's captain.

"I don't know about your friend," O'Neil began, "but I think we may be able to salvage you yet. At first I feared it would be the other way around... That Grumby was the only useful one... but he's got too much fight in him. You are quite accident-prone, but at least you don't challenge me every time I turn around."

"Can I take him to the infirmary?" Silver spoke up. He was still gripping Gilligan's arm, but seemed to be doing so more to keep him standing than to prevent him from running.

"Sure," O'Neil agreed. "Then find him and Grumby some dry clothes. Grumby stays locked in the brig for now. Once you've cleaned up Gilligan, bring him to me. Get him something to eat first too."

"Come on," Silver led Gilligan away.

"What's an infirmary?" Gilligan wondered in a small voice.

"Like a hospital," Silver explained.

"This ship has a hospital?" Gilligan cocked his head to the side and looked up toward Silver.

"It's not a literal hospital," Silver shook his head. "More like a small room with medical supplies."

"Is there a doctor?" Gilligan asked.

"No," Mr. Silver replied. "Several of us have a bit of medical knowledge. No one on-board is an actual doctor. But I can deal with a couple lashes across your back. It looks like only two of them are bleeding."

"I'm bleeding?" Gilligan frowned as he tried to look over his own shoulder. His back stung, but he didn't know the whip had actually cut into his skin.

"Not very badly," Silver promised. "You'll be okay."

Gilligan was led into a small room. This one had a window, so it wasn't as dark and dreary as the room he and Skipper had slept in last night. He allowed Silver to sit him down on a sort of cot.

"I would have stopped them if I could have," Mr. Silver promised. "You and I were very outnumbered. I feared if I tried anything, you'd only be hurt worse, and suspicion on me would be heavy. I can't help you and your friend escape if I'm being watched."

"I understand," Gilligan nodded, though he still felt let down that no one on the ship stood up for him. Some of the sailors who were standing around probably didn't even know why Gilligan was being punished, but they all just stood by and watched anyway.

"I'm worried though," Silver continued as he gathered medical supplies from a few cabinets in the room. "I'm not sure what O'Neil's plan is for you and Mr. Grumby at this point. Your captain doesn't seem like he's going to cooperate anymore, and O'Neil seemed to imply that he was done trying to work with him."

"What's he going to do?" Gilligan wondered. "He won't throw Skipper overboard, will he? 'Cause I'll jump too if he does. I go where Skipper goes."

Silver shrugged as he starting cleaning the cuts on Gilligan's back with something that made them sting and then wrapped some sort of cloth bandages around Gilligan's torso. "I don't think O'Neil would throw anyone overboard. He can be harsh, but he's not cruel. You saw how upset he was with Stevens just now. O'Neil has his idea of how harsh a punishment people deserve, and he does not appreciate it when anyone crosses over the line he's drawn regarding how harsh is too harsh. He doesn't do anything he does just to be cruel. He wouldn't punish your skipper with death."

Gilligan frowned as he watched Mr. Silver wrapping the bandages over his chest. "What will he do then? What happens to people who won't work on the ship?"

"I've seen it work out a few different ways," Mr. Silver explained. "They're either punished until they agree to comply, or they're marooned on an island."

"Then I'll refuse to work too," Gilligan decided. "Skipper and I were already marooned on an island. It's not so bad. Maybe you can refuse to work too, and get marooned with us."

Silver shook his head. "I don't think it's going to be that easy. O'Neil sees you and Mr. Grumby quite differently. Your skipper doesn't back down or give in as easily as you do. If O'Neil punished him, your skipper wouldn't break quickly. He'd refuse to work still, especially if he felt you weren't being treated fairly. You've already proven that you're more willing to comply without fighting him every step of the way. I think he feels he's lost control over Mr. Grumby. He still feels he can control you."

"I won't let him anymore," Gilligan shook his head. "I'll screw everything up on purpose. He won't want to keep me here if I throw all of his supplies overboard."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mr. Silver frowned. "You're trying his patience already."

Gilligan shook his head. "There's nothing else I can do. I can't let them leave Skipper behind and not me. If he thinks he's got me under control, he's gonna find out real fast that he's wrong."

 **xxxxxx**

 _ **Hopefully that wasn't too harsh. I know Gilligan being hit with a whip seems like a pretty intense scene for a Gilligan's Island story, but these guys are pirates, so what do you expect?**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I'm really, really sorry for taking so long to update this... If you've been reading and just now noticed or got a notification that this has been updated, know that this is the chapter you need to pick back up on. This is the first chapter published in 2017 - so read this one first if you've been waiting. I plan to upload all of the remaining chapters literally right now. Life got insane, and I had so many fanfiction projects I was working on... I honestly have three other completely finished stories besides this one just sitting around, unpublished, sadly getting dusty and forgotten while I struggle to get my shit together. Sorry for swearing in a Gilligan's Island story's note... I actually have more than three... The other ones I'm just too self-conscious about and don't plan to ever let see the light of day.**_

 _ **I write my stories now so much differently than how I used to - I get really hung up on them and proof-read and edit them like crazy. They are always for my own entertainment first and then I start publishing them after they've been in my mind for months and months already and quickly lose the momentum of actually publishing them quickly because I've already gotten the whole story out of my head by then... Anyway, it's cruel of me to start to publish a story and not finish... Once I start spilling my thoughts out publicly, I kind of have an obligation to not leave anyone hanging. Sorry, sorry, dreadful sorry...**_

 _ **Here you go:**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 6**

 **xxxxxx**

After Mr. Silver had patched Gilligan up, found him some dry clothes that were too big for him, and taken him down to the ship's kitchen for some very unappetizing fish soup and old bread, the first mate was taken back up to O'Neil's quarters, as the captain had requested.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gilligan," O'Neil offered a slight smile, but it looked more forced now than ever. He was clearly growing tired of Gilligan's mistakes, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If he got too sick of the younger man, maybe he'd finally let him and Skipper go.

Gilligan just stared back at him.

"You can go, Silver," O'Neil nodded to the sailor who'd escorted Gilligan here. The other sailor nodded and left, leaving Gilligan alone with the captain yet again.

Frowning, Gilligan continued to stare silently at the man.

"We've got to work something out between us, kid," O'Neil shook his head. "What we've got going right now isn't working for either of us. We can't go on like this - with you screwing up every single day and me being forced to punish you. I don't like this any more than you do."

Gilligan doubted that. The captain wouldn't have punished him if he didn't want to. Maybe Gilligan had messed up a few times, but it wasn't because he wasn't trying to do the jobs well. He didn't think he messed up because he was careless... He was just accident-prone. No amount of starvation or physical violence was going to change that.

"Is there anything you are capable of doing without making a mess of it?" O'Neil wondered. "I mean that in the best possible way..."

"No," Gilligan frowned. "There isn't. I screw up everything I touch. You can ask Skipper. I really do."

"So I'm going to have to start all over with you. Train you from incompetence..." The captain sighed.

Gilligan shook his head. "Skipper tried already. It's impossible."

"We'll see about that," O'Neil took a step toward Gilligan, who gulped and took a step back. "Come with me, boy," The captain ordered as he put his hand on Gilligan's back, careful to avoid touching the welts his crew had inflicted less than an hour earlier. "I'll just monitor your work and see where you're going wrong."

Gilligan frowned, but supposed he didn't have much of a choice, so he allowed O'Neil to lead him out onto the ship's deck.

"We'll have you scrub the ship's deck. It hasn't been cleaned in a while. It's a simple task. I can't imagine how you'd screw it up," The captain suggested.

Gilligan looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm sure I'll manage to mess it up somehow."

"No you won't," O'Neil's voice was stern as he handed Gilligan a scrub brush and a bucket of soapy water. "Get to work."

Frowning, Gilligan looked down at the bucket. The water was already dirty. He grimaced, but dipped the brush into the bucket and began to slowly scrub the deck.

As he scrubbed, he glanced up toward O'Neil, who was staring down at him. Gilligan sighed. "Maybe you could help instead of just watching," He suggested, getting angry at the man for treating him so poorly. He was about ready to just chuck the bucket over the side of the ship right in front of the man. He didn't like that this man was treating him like he was stupid, and he didn't like knowing that Skipper was presently locked up below deck.

"You'd be wise to not talk back to me, boy," O'Neil scowled down at him. "It's my job to keep the crew in check. That's what I'm doing. It's your job to follow orders."

"This isn't my job," Gilligan threw the brush back into the bucket and crossed his arms over his chest. Doing what the captain ordered wasn't getting him anywhere. So far, he'd tried to follow orders twice, and he'd been punished twice. "I don't work for you. I work for Skipper."

For a moment, O'Neil simply stared down at him. Gilligan wondered if the guy was going to get angry and hit him, or punish him in one of the two ways he'd already been punished.

"Get to work, kid," O'Neil ordered in a low voice.

Gilligan shook his head. "I never agreed to join your crew. I'm not going to."

The captain paused for a moment. "You've got one more chance to start listening to me," O'Neil growled. "You're trying my patience."

Slowly, Gilligan reached toward the bucket, picking it up by its handle and holding onto it as he stared back at O'Neil. Before he could tell himself not to, he swung the bucket in his hand, letting go of it when it was up in the air, and allowed it to careen over the edge of the ship. He heard it land with a splash before he looked defiantly back toward the captain.

Gilligan gasped as O'Neil grabbed his arm very harshly and began dragging him along with him without uttering a single word.

For a moment, Gilligan contemplated apologizing. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He never expected himself to. He was just so mad at this guy, and had acted on impulse.

O'Neil said nothing as he dragged Gilligan down stairs. Gilligan said nothing as he stumbled along after the man. The captain's grip was painfully tight.

Before he knew it, he was being pushed rather harshly into a small cell below deck. It wasn't until O'Neil slammed and locked the door behind him and stomped back upstairs that Gilligan realized Skipper was in the same cell.

"Skipper?" Gilligan couldn't help but smile as he realized he'd been pushed right into his friend's arms. Skipper had even caught him before Gilligan realized there was even another person in here.

"Gilligan! Are you okay?" Skipper wondered, pulling Gilligan back so he could look him over. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not really," Gilligan was too excited to see Skipper again, and too relieved that O'Neil's punishment was actually a reward to be upset over the harsh treatment he'd endured at the hands of these pirates an hour or so earlier.

"What do you mean, not really?" Skipper frowned. "What did they do? Some of the sailors brought Stevens down here earlier. They said something about him being too harsh with you... But they came back and dragged him back upstairs before I could get him to explain what happened..."

"Oh," Gilligan frowned as he remembered Mr. Stevens hitting him. "Mr. O'Neil told him to be in charge of hitting me with their pirate whip. You know how pirates are... They whip people for making mistakes. Pirates are mean, Skipper."

"They hit you, Gilligan?" Skipper frowned. He looked heartbroken.

"It wasn't so bad, Skipper," Gilligan felt bad seeing his captain upset. "He only hit me three times. It was gonna be four, but he hit me too hard twice, and the captain got mad and made him stop. Mr. Silver even gave me bandages for the welts."

"Welts?" Skipper's shoulders slumped.

"Yeah... They aren't too bad," Gilligan promised, though he hadn't really seen them himself.

"Can I see?" Skipper frowned.

Gilligan shrugged. "I guess," He agreed, turning around so Skipper could examine his injury. Though Skipper wasn't a medical professional, he'd tended to Gilligan's injuries many times in the past. He knew just enough to be an effective doctor whenever Gilligan needed one.

Skipper lifted Gilligan's shirt and carefully pulled back the bandages. He was silent as he looked the injury over for a few seconds before replacing the bandages, pulling Gilligan's shirt back down and turning Gilligan around.

Gilligan looked over Skipper for a moment. He wasn't wearing his usual outfit. Someone must have brought him dry clothing as well. Aside from looking homeless, Skipper looked pretty sad as well.

"Do they look really bad?" Gilligan wondered. Skipper looking so upset was worrying him.

"No," Skipper spoke, before pulling Gilligan into a hug. "You'll be okay. I'm just sorry I couldn't protect you."

"Oh," Gilligan hesitated. Skipper seemed more upset by this than Gilligan was. "It didn't hurt too bad. I promise. And you tried to tell them not to do it. I know that. I'm not mad at you or anything."

"I know, Gilligan," Skipper spoke with a sigh, but kept his arms around Gilligan's shoulders. "You know you didn't deserve that, right?"

Gilligan hesitated. He had lost a lot of the crew's supplies in the two days he'd been here. But being hit with a whip seemed like a pretty harsh punishment, especially since his errors had been accidental, and even more especially because they'd forced him to work on the ship in the first place.

"Gilligan?" Skipper asked again, "You know you didn't deserve to be hit like that, right?"

Gilligan nodded. "Yeah," He answered. "Skipper, I decided not to cooperate anymore, like you said. I tried to do a good job, and I got punished both times. O'Neil asked me to scrub the deck, and I threw the bucket in the water right in front of him."

Skipper pulled back out of the hug and looked at Gilligan with a shocked expression on his face. "You did? What did he do?"

"He just grabbed me really hard and brought me down here," Gilligan shrugged. "It just happened like two minutes ago."

"Really?" Skipper looked confused. "He had you beaten with a whip over losing a pole on accident, but he did nothing when you purposefully tossed his supplies overboard?"

"I guess so," Gilligan answered. "I didn't understand it either. Mr. Silver said that when people refuse to work on the ship, the captain either punishes them until they start working, or he maroons them on an island. So maybe he'll maroon us."

"That doesn't sound preferable, Little Buddy," Skipper frowned. "Not all islands are like the one we lived on before. There could be dangerous animals, or no fruit or fresh water."

"Oh," Gilligan bit his lower lip. Maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to make O'Neil upset with him. "Should I apologize to the captain?" He wondered.

"No," Skipper shook his head. "Don't you ever apologize to him."

"What are we gonna do if we get stuck on an island with no food or water, and with wild animals?" Gilligan felt his eyes growing wide. "What if he leaves us on an island that's really a volcano? What if he leaves us with a hostile tribe of natives? Skipper! What are we gonna do!?"

"Calm down, Gilligan," Skipper grabbed his arms and held onto him in an effort to get him to stop panicking. "We'll be okay. We'll stick together, and we'll be okay."

"Alright," Gilligan agreed. He supposed that sounded okay to him. As long as he and Skipper got to stay together, they'd be alright no matter where they were.

 **xxxxxx**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Here's another for your collection:**_

 **xxxxxx**

 **Chapter 7**

 **xxxxxx**

Sitting in the corner of the cell he and Gilligan had been stowed in, Skipper stared silently ahead. There was nothing of interest to watch from in here, but he was mostly in his own head anyway, thinking about what his next plan might be.

The sailor Gilligan seemed to be making friends with, Mr. Silver, had given him and Gilligan an old blanket, so this sleeping arrangement was actually preferable to the flimsy little mattress in the chilly room they'd been set up with the previous night. Skipper still couldn't manage to sleep much though. He was too worried. Even so, he snuggled under the blanket next to Gilligan, who was halfway sitting up next to him, slumped over with his head against Skipper's arm. Gilligan always seemed like he could manage to sleep anywhere.

Skipper wondered what was going to happen to him and his little buddy. His greatest fear was that the captain would leave Skipper on an island and keep Gilligan on the ship. Though Skipper could easily claim he wouldn't allow that to happen, he knew he didn't really have a choice. There were enough sailors on the ship to overpower him, and Gilligan wasn't very strong. If they wanted to keep him on the ship, they certainly could. Gilligan was also easier to intimidate than Skipper was, and these people seemed to know that. Skipper had made it clear that he wasn't going to put up with this anymore, and they likely believed him. But they had already witnessed that Gilligan was fearful of them and would therefore be more likely to follow their orders if it meant they wouldn't hurt him.

Glancing over toward his first mate, Skipper frowned. Keeping Gilligan safe was one of his top priorities in life. He cared more about Gilligan than he cared about anyone he'd ever known. If these sailors tried to separate him from Gilligan, Skipper didn't know what he'd do.

He felt very guilty already for not being able to protect Gilligan from these sailors, who Gillligan still seemed to believe to be pirates. Skipper was well aware the Gilligan was prone to accidents and mistakes, and couldn't say he was surprised that these people were frustrated with him. Even so, Skipper felt it was his responsibility to keep Gilligan from harm, and he'd failed several times in the past few days.

"Jonas," Skipper looked up when he heard someone whispering his name. "Jonas, Gilligan," It was Mr. Silver's voice, but Skipper couldn't see him just yet. It was still the middle of the night.

"Yeah?" Skipper stared into the darkness until Silver made his way closer and was within Skipper's line of vision.

"I've got information on O'Neil's plans, but you're not going to like it," Silver frowned.

Skipper swallowed a lump in his throat. He glanced down at Gilligan, who was still sleeping against him. "What is it?" Skipper wondered, looking back up at Silver.

Mr. Silver exhaled, "There are a few islands in the area. He's going to anchor the ship in the morning, near the last island. I think there are two or three. They're uncharted and uninhabited. He wants to leave you on the last one."

"Both of us?" Skipper frowned, already guessing the answer to that question.

Silver shook his head. "He wants to keep Gilligan here. He thinks he can still train him to be part of the crew."

Skipper shook his head as he wrapped his arm around Gilligan's shoulders and held him close. "We can't let that happen. Gilligan needs me... I need him..."

Mr. Silver winced. "I know... And I've got a plan. But it'll be potentially dangerous."

"Well, go on! What is it?" Skipper asked.

"Alright... As I said, there are two or three islands, several hours apart from each other. I'm pretty sure we're nearing the first one. If I sneak you two up on deck, I can throw down the rope ladder for you and let you climb down, but we have no life boats or rafts. You'd have to swim it... and since it's so dark out, you'd have to guess at where the island actually is. You might be swimming for a while. I don't know if the island is safe either."

Skipper nodded as he considered this. He wanted to do whatever it took to stay alongside his first mate, but he didn't want to put Gilligan in unnecessary danger. Perhaps he'd be selfish to convince Gilligan to jump aimlessly into the ocean and swim toward an island they couldn't see. Even if Gilligan was forced to stay on the ship and work, at least he'd be sure to live through it. O'Neil didn't seem to want to kill Gilligan.

"We should be passing by the island any minute now," Silver elaborated. "If you want to go with this plan, you'll have to decide quickly."

Skipper sighed. Perhaps he should just ask Gilligan what he wanted.

"Gilligan," Skipper whispered, shaking Gilligan's arm gently. "Little Buddy..."

Gilligan groaned and snuggled down against Skipper. "It's too early, Skipper. Make Mary Ann cook breakfast. I'm not good at it anyway." Gilligan whined.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Gilligan!" He spoke in a more stern voice.

This got Gilligan's attention. He sat up and blinked a few times. "Oh... We're still here," He frowned, and then looked out the cell's bars. "Hi, Mr. Silver," Gilligan smiled.

"Gilligan, pay attention," Skipper started. "Mr. Silver can get us out of here, but we'll have to swim to an island nearby. We don't know exactly where it is, and we don't know if the island is safe. I'm going to leave the choice up to you. The captain wants to keep you on the ship and leave me on a different island. You can stay here, where you'll be safer, or you can risk swimming to the unknown island with me."

"I want to go with you," Gilligan frowned as he immediately answered.

"I just want to make sure you understand it could be dangerous. We don't know what kind of island this is going to be..." Skipper explained.

"I get it," Gilligan replied. "I'm not staying here without you. I'd rather go live with headhunters or get eaten by a shark than stay here without you."

Skipper couldn't help a small chuckle. "Alright..." He turned back toward Mr. Silver. "Let's do this..."

"Be sure to keep quiet. Most of the sailors are asleep, so hopefully no one will see us," Mr. Silver commented as he unlocked the cell and led them upstairs.

"You can still come with us," Gilligan offered to Silver. "Mr. O'Neil's gonna be mad at you..."

Silver shook his head. "He'll never know I was involved. Come on," He led them over the deck and back toward the rope ladder they'd climbed up when they'd first been picked up by this ship. Silver tossed the ladder down.

"Thanks for helping us," Skipper reached out and shook the man's hand.

"No problem," Mr. Silver nodded. He gestured out over the ocean, into the darkness. "I believe the island is a mile or so in that direction."

"A mile?" Gilligan groaned. "That's really far to swim..."

"We'll make it, Little Buddy," Skipper promised, hoping he was being truthful.

"Okay," Gilligan seemed less confident as he squinted out into the darkness. "I can't even see it."

Mr. Silver handed Skipper a small bag, "Your wet clothes are in here. I figured you'd both want them back. I don't know how long you'll be on that island. It's uncharted, so there's a good chance no one will ever happen upon it. Hopefully it's safe."

Skipper nodded. "Thanks," He took the bag and turned toward Gilligan. "You ready?"

Gilligan nodded, "I guess so." He turned toward Silver, wrapping his arms around the man in a hug. "Thank you, Mr. Silver."

"You're welcome, Gilligan," Silver hugged him back. "Stay safe," He added as he pulled back out of the hug. "Both of you," He looked toward Skipper.

Skipper nodded and climbed down over the railing, onto the rope ladder. "Thanks again, Mr. Silver," He said.

Silver nodded and helped Gilligan climb down after his captain.

"Bye," Gilligan called up to him in a low voice. It was still too loud for Skipper's preference, however.

"Gilligan, shhh," Skipper hissed. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"Oh... Okay. Sorry, Skipper," Gilligan whispered back.

They made their way down into the water, which seemed even colder than it had been when Skipper dove in after Gilligan earlier in the day.

Skipper heard Gilligan breath in a gasp when the younger man climbed down into the water. "It's really cold, Skipper," He complained. Skipper could hear in his voice that he was shivering already.

"You'll get used to it fast," Skipper promised. "Keep moving, and try to stay quiet. Follow me." He began swimming out toward the direction Silver had indicated, frequently looking over his shoulder to make sure Gilligan was keeping up.

"I hope Mr. Silver doesn't get in trouble," Gilligan commented in a shaking voice as he swam after Skipper.

"Hopefully no one will know he helped us," Skipper replied as he continued swimming.

"Skipper?" Gilligan asked from behind him.

Skipper sighed in annoyance, "What, Gilligan?"

"What if this island has like... monsters on it or something?" Gilligan wondered.

Skipper shook his head, "It won't Gilligan. There are no such thing as monsters. Just keep swimming. We're wasting our breath with all the chit chat."

"There could be monsters, Skipper," Gilligan disagreed. "We've never been to this island. We don't know what's on it."

"There aren't monsters, Gilligan," Skipper growled. "Be quiet and swim."

"Okay," Gilligan sounded disappointed.

Skipper frowned. Sometimes it seemed like it was way too easy to hurt Gilligan's feelings. "We can talk more when we reach land, alright?"

"Okay, Skipper," Gilligan agreed.

The two of them continued swimming, for what seemed like forever. When they finally reached the island's beach, they were both quite exhausted. Skipper was relieved they'd swam in the right direction. They had pretty much just had to take Mr. Silver's word that the island was even really there at all.

Skipper dragged himself to his feet as soon as he could as he waded through the waves and up toward the dry land.

Gilligan walked a few feet behind him. "Do you think we can make a fire?" He wondered, his voice shaking as he was quite drenched and therefore likely quite cold. Skipper certainly was.

"We can try," Skipper looked over his shoulder in time to see Gilligan trip over something and fall down into the shallow water. A wave crashed down over him as he struggled to pull himself back up to his feet.

"Gilligan, be careful..." Skipper grumbled as he reached down and grabbed Gilligan, pulling him up to his feet and dragging him along.

"I had a lighter in my pants pocket," Gilligan noted. "It might be too wet to work though."

"I'll make it work," Skipper promised. He was so fed up with this whole ordeal by this point that he almost believed he could force the lighter to work just by being angry enough with it.

When they reached the dry part of the beach, Skipper let go of Gilligan, who allowed himself to fall down against the sand. "I'm so glad to be on an island again," Gilligan mentioned as he lay there.

"I'd have rather gone back to Hawaii," Skipper complained. "We know nothing about this place, and we're probably going to end up stuck here just like we were before, only without the others."

Gilligan frowned and looked up at him. "Maybe instead of trying to get back home, we should try to get back to the other island," He suggested. "I'm gonna miss Mary Ann, and the professor, and Ginger, and the Howells... I hope they're doing okay without us."

"I'm sure they're fine," Skipper noted. "The professor is a smart, capable man. He'll keep everyone safe. And they're all quite strong, in their own way. They'll be alright."

"I hope Mr. Silver is okay too," Gilligan said again. "The captain was pretty mean to me when I messed up. He'll probably be mean to Mr. Silver too if he finds out what he did."

"I'm sure he'll be okay too," Skipper promised. "Let's find some dry firewood."

Gilligan nodded and began searching the nearby area for wood. "Skipper, will you come with me into the trees?" He asked.

Skipper turned toward his young companion. Gilligan was standing awkwardly, frowning and staring in Skipper's direction. "Why?" Skipper sighed as he tossed the couple pieces of wood he'd found into a small pile.

"There's probably good firewood in there," Gilligan noted. "But there could be monsters too."

"Gilligan," Skipper groaned. "I told you there aren't any monsters."

"You don't know that, Skipper!" Gilligan exclaimed with wide eyes as he shook his head. "We have no idea what's on this island."

"But there aren't monsters," Skipper explained. "We do know that much."

"How do you know? You haven't explored the island. There could be monsters," Gilligan disagreed.

"There are not monsters anywhere, Gilligan," Skipper tried to keep his voice calm. Trying to explain things to Gilligan was pretty tedious sometimes. "There aren't monsters here, because there aren't any monsters in the whole world. They do not exist."

Gilligan nodded slowly and narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Gilligan," Skipper sighed and shook his head. "Get back to work. If we get a fire started, we're going to need lots of wood to keep it going all night."

"Okay," Gilligan agreed as he reached down and started collecting small bits of wood from the beach.

Skipper got back to work as well, finding a large piece of driftwood and dragging it over onto the pile he'd started. There were mostly only very small or very large pieces of wood out on the beach.

"Skipper," Gilligan called out again.

Skipper looked over at his friend, "What is it this time, Gilligan?"

"There could be tigers in the woods," Gilligan suggested.

"Well, I doubt it," Skipper shrugged. "We're still near Hawaii."

"Maybe bears," Gilligan guessed. "Or the mean kinds of monkeys. I've heard some of them are kinda mean. Like King Kong."

"King Kong wasn't mean," Skipper disagreed. "I think he was mostly misunderstood."

"He didn't mean to be mean... But he could step on us," Gilligan noted.

"Then we'll be careful..." Skipper suggested. "Gilligan! Will you stop that? There's no King Kong in the woods," Skipper growled, angry at himself for once again falling into Gilligan's trap. Gilligan always talked about things that didn't exist or weren't relevant, and somehow Skipper often found himself playing along without even meaning to.

"But there could be other stuff in the woods," Gilligan frowned. "Will you come with me, Skipper? Please?"

With a sigh, Skipper finally gave in. "Alright," He agreed. He had wanted to find more medium-sized branches for the fire anyway.

He followed Gilligan into the trees, noticing his first mate often paused to glance back over his shoulder in order to make sure Skipper was still behind him.

"I'm going to make a drying rack or our clothes," Gilligan informed him. "I won't put it too close to the fire though. I learned my lesson the hard way last time. We'll have to wear this wet stuff tonight, but maybe our clothes will be dry by tomorrow. Then we can explore the island without having to be all wet the whole time."

Skipper nodded. He'd have to double check that Gilligan's drying rack was far enough away from the fire. Their wet clothes might be the only clothes they had besides the tattered things Mr. Silver had given them. He didn't want them to accidentally get burnt.

"What would you do if we found a lion in these woods?" Gilligan wondered.

"We won't, Gilligan," Skipper rolled his eyes and picked up some fallen branches and a bit of dried grass to use for kindling.

"I found a really weird looking bird once when I was a little kid," Gilligan told him. "It looked like it was a martian or something, so it was probably from the moon, but it was still in my back yard anyway. Sometimes stuff finds its way to where it's not supposed to be. So there could be a lion here."

Skipper stared at Gilligan as the younger man explained. He really didn't know how to respond. If they found a lion, they probably wouldn't be doing anything, because it would kill them, but they weren't going to find one, because lions didn't live around here.

"And this other time a weird bug landed on my windowsill," Gilligan continued. "It was like red and black and fuzzy and there's no way it wasn't from like China or Australia or something. Somehow it got on my window, all the way from Africa or Antarctica."

Skipper frowned and picked up some more branches. He noticed Gilligan hadn't gathered any yet, so he decided to use the younger man as an extra pair of arms to carry what he'd already collected. "Hold out your arms, Little Buddy," Skipper ordered.

Gilligan did as instructed, accepting Skipper's arm-full of branches and continued with his stories. "And cats are like the same thing as lions, only evolutionary advanced. There could have been cats here that could evolve into lions. I had a cat once, but it never grew into a lion."

"That's not how evolution works, Gilligan," Skipper explained as he gathered up some more branches.

"So are you saying there probably aren't lions here?" Gilligan narrowed his eyes.

Skipper stared at him. "Yes. Yes, that's what I've been saying," Skipper rolled his eyes. "There aren't lions here."

"Oh, good," Gilligan breathed a sigh of relief. "Lions are dangerous, Skipper," He noted.

"Yes, Gilligan," Skipper laughed. "They are. Let's get back out to the beach and try to start this fire."

Gilligan nodded and followed him back toward the pile of wood Skipper had been accumulating.

Fortunately, Gilligan's lighter indeed worked, and Skipper was able to get a nice fire going pretty quickly. He and Gilligan sat down next to it and warmed themselves up.

"In the morning we can look around the island," Skipper suggested. "See if we can find a freshwater source and some fruit trees. We can try to make spears to catch fish, or make a net out of something. I don't want to start a signal fire so soon, in case the people on the ship we just escaped from see it. They might not know we came to this particular island. They could figure we just jumped out into the ocean and drowned. So we'll keep our fire small during the day. Maybe make one further inland if we can find someplace better to set up camp."

"We can make huts like we did on the other island." Gilligan said.

"We could try. We don't have the tools we had there," Skipper frowned. "It won't be easy to construct entire buildings with no tools."

"Maybe we can be cavemen," Gilligan suggested with a yawn. "Boy, I sure am tired."

"You and me both, Gilligan," Skipper yawned as well. "I might actually be able to sleep finally. I couldn't seem to get any meaningful rest on that ship."

"Yeah, those pirates were scary," Gilligan agreed as he scooted close to Skipper and leaned against the older man's arm.

"They weren't pirates, Gilligan," Skipper reminded his young friend.

"Then what were they?" Gilligan looked up toward Skipper.

"Just men, Gilligan. Sailors. Fishermen. I don't know," Skipper shrugged.

"They looked like pirates," Gilligan insisted.

"They weren't, Gilligan," Skipper disagreed. "There aren't pirates anywhere near here. I would have heard about it."

"I think we just did hear about it, Skipper," Gilligan looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

Skipper stared at him and shook his head, "Why don't you try to get some sleep, Gilligan?" He suggested.

"Okay," Gilligan agreed, drawing his legs up and leaning more heavily against Skipper, hugging his arm and practically using him as a giant pillow.

For a moment, Skipper contemplated being annoyed, but then he figured he really didn't mind much. Gilligan would probably fall asleep before Skipper would, and since the younger man was such a heavy sleeper, Skipper could always move into a more comfortable sleeping position for himself long after Gilligan had fallen asleep without disrupting the other man's sleep.

Just when Skipper finally felt like Gilligan was finished talking, the kid started right back up again. "Remember when I fell off the ship and almost drowned?"

Skipper exhaled tiredly, "Yes, Gilligan. That was earlier today. Literally less than twelve hours ago. I remember."

"Yeah," Gilligan sighed. "I remember too. That was scary."

"Yes, it was," Skipper agreed.

"I'm sorry I didn't let go of the fishing pole when you told me to. I know you were mad that I didn't listen. I was scared that the pirates would be mad at me, and I knew it would be better if you were mad than if they were, because they're mean, and you aren't. When they got mad at me, they hit me or didn't let me have lunch or dinner. When you get mad, you don't hurt me. I should have listened to you instead, because I lost the pole anyway, and you were right," Gilligan frowned as he stared into the fire.

Skipper frowned as well.

"Thank you for saving me anyway though," Gilligan added. "Even though I didn't do what you told me to."

"Gilligan," Skipper looked down at him. "I would have saved you no matter what, and I always will."

"Really?" Gilligan glanced up at him and offered a small smile.

"Yes, really. I'd rather you listen to me, but even if you don't, I'll always have your back, Little Buddy. You're my best friend, Gilligan. There's nothing you could possibly do to make me refuse to save you if you needed me to," Skipper promised.

Gilligan snuggled closer to him. "I'd save you too, Skipper."

Skipper smiled and wrapped his arm around Gilligan's shoulders. It was good to know that he and Gilligan would always be able to depend on each other.

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	8. Chapter 8

_**Last chapter! (Remember, I just published chapters 6, 7, and 8 all at the same time. If you're coming back after waiting on me for several months, start at chapter 6. Again, sorry for making you wait so long.)**_

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 **Chapter 8**

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Gilligan woke up as the sun rose over the horizon. He yawned and stretched his arms as he stared up at the sky. It was very early still, but light enough to explore the island, which was what Gilligan wanted to do most right now. Ever since they'd gotten here, Gilligan was eager to see what type of an island it was. He just hoped there weren't any dangerous animals or head hunters living here.

Glancing next to himself, he noticed Skipper was still sound asleep next to the still-smoking fire. Gilligan pulled himself up to his feet and looked around. The beach looked much more inviting now that it was day time. It actually looked a lot like the island Skipper and he had just come from, which Gilligan loved dearly, no matter how many times he attempted to be rescued anyway. Maybe this place could become a third home to him, as the other island had been a second home.

Gilligan looked down at himself. The clothes Mr. Silver had given him were still damp. It was really quite uncomfortable to be wearing damp clothing, which the sand seemed to want to annoyingly cling to.

He made his way over to the crudely constructed drying rack he'd made out of branches he previous night and touched the clothing he'd hung there. They seemed pretty dry by now. Gilligan smiled and changed out of the wet clothes and into his usual outfit. He put the wet clothing on the rack next to Skipper's things. Maybe they could still use the tattered clothing for fish nets or something.

Now that he was in dry clothing, Gilligan was ready to explore the island. He glanced toward Skipper and considered waking the other man up. But Skipper had mentioned that he hadn't slept well on the ship. He could probably use some extra sleep. So Gilligan began walking down the beach on his own.

As he walked, Gilligan enjoyed the sound of the waves washing up over the sand. It was a familiar sound, which he'd grown to love, and which had been absent while on the pirate ship. Gilligan loved being out at sea on The Minnow, but after his time on the Valiant Serpent, he wanted nothing more than to be back on land. The sound the ocean made as the tide came in over the beach was very comforting.

Gilligan reached down and picked up a cool-looking shell. He'd once helped Mary Ann collect shells to decorate a garden she was trying to grow near the huts. She'd probably have liked this one. Gilligan frowned. He wondered if he'd ever see Mary Ann again... He put the shell in his pocket. If he and Skipper did find their way back to the other island, he could give Mary Ann the shell.

After he'd walked on the beach for a few minutes, Gilligan wondered if he should check out the trees. This beach was just like the beach where Skipper and Gilligan had left the others. He'd seen everything there was to see out here already. The woods could be different though. He glanced at the trees. They didn't look scary from here... But he didn't know what might be lurking in there. He looked back down by Skipper, who was still laying in the sand.

He supposed he could just walk into the forest a little bit, and if he found anything scary, he could run back to Skipper. He was a fast runner, after all.

Gilligan made his way into the jungle. It was darker in the trees than out on the beach. The sunlight hadn't quite made it into the trees just yet. It was still too early. It was still lighter than it was at night though, so it wasn't too scary.

He walked along, frowning as he wondered if this was a good idea. What if a large cat or gorilla jumped out and attacked him? It could happen before he even knew it... Gilligan couldn't outrun something that pounced on him without warning.

Shrinking down slightly as he walked, Gilligan looked around himself. The further he walked into the trees, the more it seemed like he should have woken up Skipper. It was too shadowy in here. There could be creatures in the trees, without Gilligan even being able to see them. They could be watching him, waiting to pounce. Gilligan looked up as he walked. He didn't see any creatures up in the tree tops, but maybe they were camouflaged... Maybe they were in the shadows. They could still be up there even if he couldn't see them.

Gilligan screamed as he collided with something. He had been looking up and to the left and hadn't been watching where he was going. Whatever he'd walked into was big and strong. He fell back onto the ground and covered his face with his hands.

"Don't eat me!" He pleaded as he squeezed his eyes shut and shrank down.

When he heard no indication that whatever he'd collided with was moving around, Gilligan peeked out from between his fingers. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw only a large tree trunk in front of him. He'd walked into a tree, not a monster.

Still breathing hard from his moment of panic, Gilligan pulled himself to his feet and touched the tree with his fingertips. "Sorry, tree. I thought you were a monster," He laughed nervously to himself. Just because the tree wasn't a monster didn't mean there weren't real monsters around.

Once he had calmed down a bit, Gilligan could swear he heard whispering nearby. "...Sounded like Gilligan..." A low, indistinct voice spoke.

Gilligan gasped softly and looked nervously around himself. Did he really hear that? He took a step back, bumped into something, and spun himself around, "Get away!" He screamed, before realizing it had been a vine he'd collided with. Gilligan laughed nervously and stepped back away from the vine.

"Gilligan!?" He heard someone's voice in the distance. It wasn't Skipper's voice.

Gilligan's eyes widened. Maybe this island was haunted... Maybe there were ghosts here... And these ghosts knew his name! He winced and looked around himself. He didn't see anything strange. Maybe the voice had been in his head...

As he continued walking, Gilligan could swear he heard voices whispering in the distance. He couldn't make out what they were saying... Gilligan frowned and looked behind him. Maybe it was time to go back out to the beach. Maybe exploring the woods was a task more suited to be done around mid-day, and with Skipper there with him.

He turned back the way he'd come, but he was immediately uncertain. Maybe he hadn't come from this way. Gilligan turned back around and walked a few steps. This didn't seem right either.

"Maybe over here," A soft voice spoke nearby. Gilligan could barely hear it, but he was certain it was there.

Gilligan whimpered and settled on walking away from the voices. Maybe it wasn't toward the beach, but at least it was away from the ghosts.

He quickened his pace, looking over his shoulder frequently as he went. This wasn't the right way either... He turned around and began running in the other direction. When he collided with something, yet again, however, he screamed and fell back. It didn't feel like a tree this time. It felt like a person, or a monster.

This time, Gilligan didn't bother looking up to see what he'd ran into. Instead, he scrambled backward, climbing to his feet, and ran as fast as he could away from whatever he'd run into.

"Skipper!" He yelled as he ran. He ran and ran, stumbling over vines and weeds, but running onward anyway, as quickly as he possibly could.

Fortunately, he'd somehow managed to point himself in the right direction. It didn't take long for him to see light coming from outside the trees and to hear the gentle sound of the ocean tide washing over the sand.

"Skipper! Skipper!" Gilligan called again as he neared the beach.

Gilligan saw Skipper before Skipper saw him. The older man stood up quickly and looked around himself, "Gilligan?" He sounded both confused and worried.

But he didn't have to be confused for long, because Gilligan was quick. He sprinted out of the trees and leapt up into Skipper's arms. Even though Skipper was probably caught off guard, the older man caught Gilligan in his arms anyway, as he always did.

"Gilligan?" Skipper frowned. "What's wrong?"

"There's ghosts in the trees. Or monsters..." Gilligan explained in a breathless voice. "Maybe both!"

Skipper scoffed and set Gilligan down so that he stood on his own two feet. "Gilligan, I told you. There aren't monsters on this island or on any other."

"So it's ghosts then!" Gilligan exclaimed. "I heard them! They were saying my name. I think they were looking for me. I ran into one, but I didn't stop to ask questions. I just ran away."

"Gilligan, there is so such thing-" Skipper paused as he stared toward the trees with a worried look in his eyes.

Gilligan turned and looked toward the trees as well. Some bushes at the edge of the treeline were rusting. Gilligan quickly ducked behind Skipper. "Don't let them get me, Skipper!" He begged, peaking out from behind his captain's shoulder.

Skipper was far braver than Gilligan. Though he was clearly worried over what might be making its way out of the trees, he didn't scream or run and hide. He stood his ground and waited to see what it was.

And what it was, was something far less horrifying than Gilligan expected.

"Professor?" Skipper and Gilligan said together when the man stepped out of the trees.

"What are you two doing here?" The Professor wondered with confusion evident in his features and voice.

"What are you doing here?" Gilligan wondered, finally stepping out from behind Skipper. "You better not be a ghost trying to play tricks on us by looking like The Professor..."

"I'm not a ghost, Gilligan," The Professor promised. "Mary Ann! Over here!" He called out. "Mary Ann saw smoke from your fire this morning, so she and I went out to investigate. We never would have guessed you and Skipper were the ones who made the fire..."

Mary Ann emerged from the trees next. "Gilligan? Skipper? I thought it was your voice out in the trees, Gilligan. Did something go wrong with the raft?" She frowned.

"The raft is gone," Gilligan shook his head in disappointment.

"Did you two find anything out on the ocean?" The Professor wondered.

Gilligan frowned and looked around. This island did look familiar now that he thought about it. They'd somehow ended up going in a full circle and were back on the original island they'd tried to escape from.

"Not anything useful," Skipper frowned. "We found a ship, but they wouldn't help us."

"They were pirates!" Gilligan added.

"They were not pirates," Skipper disagreed. "They wanted us to work for them, but wouldn't help us get home. One of them snuck us off the ship at night, and told us to swim toward this island... We didn't know it was the same island we'd left."

"They were gonna leave Skipper on an island and make me keep working on the ship," Gilligan frowned.

"That's awful," Mary Ann gasped. "How could anyone be so cruel? I'm so glad you both escaped. Why, things just wouldn't have ever been the same here if Skipper returned and you didn't... We'd have all been heartbroken."

"Skipper tried to convince them to take us to Hawaii. He even offered to pay them... But they wouldn't listen. We had to sneak off," Gilligan looked from The Professor to Mary Ann, hoping they weren't disappointed that he and Skipper didn't find help. "I'm sorry we couldn't find anyone to rescue us."

"That's alright, Gilligan," The Professor didn't really seem disappointed. "You tried, and that's what counts. The more I thought about it, the more I figured taking a small raft out onto the ocean was a really awful idea. I'm just glad you two made it back okay."

Mary Ann nodded. "We all started getting really worried almost immediately after you left. And we all felt awful for letting you go. I don't care if we stay stranded as long as everyone is safe. As much as I'd like to go back home, I don't want anyone to risk their life for it."

"Aw," Skipper smiled. "That's very sweet of you to say, Mary Ann."

"I meant every word of it," She smiled back.

"Well, let's get back to the huts. The others are going to be happy to see you both," The Professor commented. "The whole group has been worried sick. I think each and every person on the island has expressed regret at letting the two of you sail off on that flimsy raft."

Skipper grabbed up his clothes off the drying rack and walked up next to The Professor and Gilligan walked alongside Mary Ann.

"Are you hungry, Gilligan?" Mary Ann wondered. "I was about to start breakfast when I saw the smoke from your fire."

Gilligan nodded. "The pirates... er-um..." He hesitated. Skipper said they weren't pirates. "The sailors, I mean... They had really watery, gross fish soup and stale bread, and they didn't even let me have any the first day! I'm starving. And Skipper didn't get to eat anything yesterday. The pira- I mean, the sailors weren't very nice, for the most part."

Mary Ann frowned. "Well, I'll cook extra today," She offered as they continued walking along after Skipper and The Professor.

"I found this for you," Gilligan reached into his pocket and pulled out the shell he'd found earlier. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, but I thought you might like it for your garden."

Mary Ann smiled. "Thank you, Gilligan!" She took the shell and turned it over in her hands. "It's lovely. It'll look great in my garden. You're too sweet, Gilligan."

Gilligan grinned and looked down at the ground. He never knew how to take compliments... Mostly because he was so used to messing things up and hearing more complaints than praise.

"I bet you have all sorts of crazy stories about what happened in the several days you both were gone," Mary Ann noted. "It must have been scary to be on a real pirate ship, but exciting too. I've never seen one."

Gilligan glanced over at her. "Skipper said they weren't pirates."

"But you said they were," Mary Ann shrugged.

"You believe me?" Gilligan gestured toward himself, shocked that anyone would take his word over Skipper's.

"Sure. You were there, weren't you?" Mary Ann looked back at him.

"Yeah," Gilligan nodded. "I was there... And they were pirates!"

"Well, I can't wait to hear all about it," Mary Ann said.

Gilligan nodded. He couldn't wait to tell everyone either. His time on the pirate ship was indeed scary, but it was still an adventure, and it wasn't all bad. He couldn't wait to tell everyone about the brave, selfless actions of Mr. Silver and about sleeping in the brig, about almost drowning, and about Skipper saving him. Even though some of it was pretty uncomfortable and scary at the time, it was nothing but a cool story now.

Today was going to be great. He was back in his second home, and all his friends were there. He and Skipper had lots of stories to tell, and Mary Ann would probably even make him a coconut creme pie, as she often did when she wanted to be especially nice to him.

Maybe they hadn't made it back home, but they'd made it back to their second-home, and that was almost just as good. Everything was going to be wonderful again.

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 **THE END**

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 **Thanks for reading.**


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